


Time - Part III

by LadySmith



Series: The Time Trilogy [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, Dreams vs. Reality, Future Hyrule, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Hero Worship, M/M, Obsession, Past Relationship(s), Reincarnation, Repressed Memories, Returning Home, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, crushing hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySmith/pseuds/LadySmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conclusion to the Time Trilogy. The past and present intertwine, as lovers from the past reach out for help from those in the future to fix a mistake that wasn't supposed to happen. Is ancient magic from long ago enough to convince the inexperienced to risk their lives for love? A story about soul mates, reincarnation, obsession, and remembering to live in the now - no matter how great the past seemed to be. Link/Male Sheik. In-progress. T for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Company for the Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to Time - Part III. I've been working on this for a while now and it's still unfinished, but I thought posting some of it now would motivate me to complete it sooner. I have a few chapters written already, and will be updating as often as I can. As always with the Time series, things may not make sense at first. Part 3 is a little bit different than the others. Please go in with an open-mind, and enjoy what is turning out to be the conclusion to my little time-paradox romance trilogy featuring Sheik and the Hero of Time.
> 
> Thank you all for being here.

 

 

 

 

"The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you,

not knowing how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.

They're in each other all along."

~ Jalal ad-Din Rumi

* * *

 

The main hall is quiet this time of night.

The light tapping of my boots as I walk across the marbled floor resonate throughout the enormous space. It is dimly lit and ancient, the history permeating off the walls with stories I can't even begin to fathom.

Everyone is asleep now as I play out my nightly routine; my only solace away from the many who also stay here whom never engage with me or seem to know I even exist. I walk past the large, carved archways, breathing in the scent of centuries past. How those who study here can think so nonchalantly of this place is beyond me; I feel the ghosts around every corner.. eyes peering, watching. Spirits of Hylians long since passed from this world.

They say I am a reincarnation of a Sheikah, a tribe of shadow warriors from centuries ago. It's my eyes, they say, red like blood. Like fire. I had also begun to wonder if they were mocking me, teasing me for being different. That's more likely the case. However, I researched them then, these shadow beings, in the old books that remain in the school's library. I found an entry on one in particular, one that caught my eye.

'The Last of the Sheikah', it had read. His name was Sheik.

In the drawings depicting him he had been tall and strong, but thin and very swift. His face stares at me from beyond the torn pages, lifeless eyes, unblinking. He speaks to me, and as strange as it sounds, I feel like I am beginning to understand. He wears fabric over his mouth, and I touch my lips, wondering what it must feel like to wear such a thing over my own. As I look into the lifeless eyes, I feel a strangeness in my chest, and I have the urge to cry. Why I do so, I do not know, but this Sheik.. he's telling me things, things I believe he wasn't able to say before it was too late.

There is a description below the sketch:

_Sheik was a guide to the Hero of Time, aiding him on his quest to rid Hyrule of the dark power Ganondorf had placed over the land._

My finger had trailed over that sentence on the rough page. I reread it a dozen times.

And this is why I escape to this cavernous room every night, the main hall, decorated with stained glass images of Hyrule's heroes and formidable foes. I stand before them, their eyes looking down at me. What were you like? I wonder.. I scour the portrayals for any sign of the Sheikah, and he is nowhere to be seen. Why were you forgotten?

The hero's portrait is beside the Princess Zelda. He stands strong and brave, the tip of the sword on the ground with his hand atop the hilt, shield raised mid-height with the other hand. I feel possessed by it. I sit on the floor in front of it, staring up, mouth slightly open. I am enamoured with him. He looks at me with such a serious expression. Were you always like that? I wonder.. He doesn't answer me. My eyes switch from the Hero to the Princess as I read between the lines, subtext floating through my mind as I ask her, "Were you lovers?" It's strange that the subconscious answer I receive is, "No." And why is that so, I ask myself.. why were you not?

It fascinates me, the hidden stories, truths, behind these people from so long ago. It pains me that more are not so intrigued by these figures - the other students walking past them everyday without a second glance. The few classmates I manage to converse with ridicule me for caring so much. I'm too much of a history nerd, they say. Maybe they're right. And then it saddens me, for how must it feel to be dead; your only likeness frozen on plates of glass as a lesson in history?

Truth be told, I'm not really surprised I'm friendless. I'd rather talk to dead people, anyway. They're much more interesting.

After an hour or so, I take the books on Hyrule's history with me to my room. I open the door slowly, it creaking slightly with age. My roommate wakes none, thankfully, and I tread softly across the stone floors, reaching my desk in the corner. It's far too late but I sit anyway, opening one book in particular with more information on the Sheikah. And as I peruse the contents, I come to a chapter describing shadow magic. This is some of what is says:

_While in varying degrees depending on the caster, the Sheikah tribe were known to have proficiency in Shadow Magic. Notable spells ranged from simple elemental control, agility boosters, and prophesying, while some were said to gain teleportation abilities, even crossing between parallel universes. How much of this is true is up for debate, as the only evidence we have are physical remnants (see photo below) or crudely written reports based on "witness" interpretation during the time of the Hyrulean Civil War._

The photo below shows a temple in a graveyard, in a town called Kakariko, with what looks to be a large white design drawn onto the ground before its entrance. There are many torches scattered, an unsettling amount, and a large stone in the center of it all.

I'm intrigued by this information, to say the least. I had no idea the Sheikah were so powerful. Why were there none left then, besides one, after the war? How and when did Sheik die? I return to the contents of the book, skimming the chapters, looking for one that may answer my questions. I find then, in the chapter titled 'The End of the Hyrulean Civil War' a short paragraph with cryptic information.

Sheik followed the Hero of Time in his quest to defeat Ganondorf, however perishing just before the epic battle itself.

What? That can't be true. I imagine then the scenario, the Hero and Sheik fighting side by side through the dismal castle. Then, struck fatally in the heart by a Stalfos, he falls, the Hero running to him, catching him in his arms before reaching the floor. They exchange words and Sheik passes, the Hero's companion leaving him alone to face the evil that awaits. How depressing. I sit for a moment, thinking, brows furrowing, displeased. I close the book and open my laptop, the screen illuminating as it wakes. I bring up a search, and in it I type 'Sheik, Last of the Sheikah'.

Strangely enough, the first result is a link to a forum entitled, 'Secrets of Kakariko Village'. I click on it, and what loads seems to be a forum for people who still live in the town, who have visited, or others who are just interested in its past. The thread in particular it sends me to reads something like this:

**OP:** Can anyone shed any light on what exactly happened to Sheik? I've heard that he didn't actually die in the castle. Is that true? I'm writing an essay and would like a conflicting viewpoint.

**Hero_of_Time1:** From what I've read it seems that Sheik really did die before the final battle. Sucks for him.

**ZoraGirl:** SixSages would know. She lives in Kakariko and moderates this forum. She's been inside Impa's house.

**OP:** I thought Impa's house was sealed shut?

**SixSages:** It is, but I found a second entrance near the roof on the backside.

**Hero_of_Time1:** lmao. Right.

**SixSages:** You can choose not to believe me. That's your own problem. I scanned some letters I found and put them up on my blog yesterday. Check them out. OP I think you may find them interesting.

Well that's hard to resist.

I visit the blog, clicking on the link provided in the forum. It takes me to an image heavy page, with what looks to be handwritten letters which were scanned and uploaded. One in particular catches my eye, one entitled 'Sheik's last letter to Impa'.

The handwriting is faded from age, but immediately I am distracted by it. The letters are tilted a bit to the right, the shapes slightly feminine, not how I've seen most men write. It looks as if he took care when writing, almost as if the art of it was important to him. I'm lost in thought as Sheik becomes more human to me, now that I have seen this. I take a deep breath and begin reading.

_This is my final letter to you._

_Link and I have made it safely out of Hyrule. Here the air is light and knows not of evil kings or monsters. The path of destruction created by Ganondorf had yet to touch these parts. It is a good thing it never will._

_We will continue on as far as we can muster, until we reach a place where no one can claim to know us. It is better off this way, for we choose a life which neither of us cares to share or explain to anyone._

_It will take many years for Link to adapt to such a peaceful life, but he deserves it. He deserves a chance._

_Thank you for all that you have done for the Hero, for myself, and for Hyrule. Please live the rest of your days without fear for us, and think warmly back on what friendship we managed to create through such dark times._

_Farewell._

_\- S_

I sit, unmoving, rereading the letter a dozen times.

we choose a life which neither of us cares to share or explain to anyone..

Does that mean..?

Whoa.

I lean back on the chair, eyebrows raised, eyes wide. I feel as if I almost have to validate my thinking, so I return to the forum and PM SixSages. I carefully type out a message, not wanting to seem like a troll trying to cause a stir.

I read one of the letters on your blog, the last one from Sheik to Impa. Did I read it correctly? Were Link and Sheik involved? I am attending Hyrule Academy in the city, and I've never read anything about this before. Could you shed some light on this? Thank you.

I click send, and slowly close the lid to my laptop. I look at the clock beside my bed. 2:29 a.m. Wow. I yawn and stand up, stretching. I don't even bother to change before falling into bed, and as I lay there, I stare at the ceiling, imagining things in my head I feel ashamed to talk about.

* * *

 

The alarm buzzes faintly, growing louder as I slowly wake, my eyes peeling themselves open. I akin waking up to something quite painful, and this morning more so than 's what I get for only four hours of sleep. It's my own damn fault. I swipe the screen on my phone, silencing the persistent buzzing. I raise my hand to my forehead, sighing audibly, waiting for the motivation to sit and remove myself from the bed. Oh. I reach for my phone again, raising it eye level. I access the internet, checking my inbox at the forum I visited last night.

Nothing.

Feeling now even less motivated than before, I manage to pick myself out of bed and into the shower. The water is cold as it fails to heat up by the time I'm done. I notice as I step out and glance in the mirror, that I look like shit. Dark circles persist under my eyes, only worse now after the lack of sleep. I finger through my hair, smoothing it slightly, the usual blonde hue now a wet, light brown. I've thought about dying it that color. But then I'd probably be made fun of for that too, and well.. I just don't feel like drawing attention to myself.

I walk the corridors to class, down from the dorm rooms through the main hall. I steal a glance at the Hero as I walk past like I always do, but this time, it's different. It's almost like I know his secret. He stares at me, blue orbs, lifeless and unblinking. I stop, returning the gaze. My heart flutters. I curse myself for having a crush on a dead guy. I wonder if he knows my secret, too. I realize then how much I hate my life, and how much I'd rather be somewhere else. In a different time, altogether. I continue walking to class, my head down, my mind in another place.

I sit in my usual spot, rows back, empty seats to my left and right. The few who used to be my friends look at me from further ahead in the room, glancing back with disapproving looks in their eyes. I shrug it off. I used to care. In their world, they'd probably be happier if I just sat by them and pretend to be interested in their meaningless conversations. I feel too old for that.

I check my phone from underneath the desk. I reload the forum, hoping to see a message in my inbox. And what do you know? There is. I click on the envelope icon and wait as the page loads briefly.

**[ Message from SixSages**

Hi there. Glad you found the information useful. Yes, I do think they were involved. There's more proof than just that letter. Stuff I haven't posted. Funnily enough you are the only one who seems to have noticed that little bit. Very perceptive of you.

So, you go to Hyrule Academy, huh? Is it full of jackasses like I've heard? Not that I mean you're a jackass. What are you majoring in, by the way? ]

I'm not sure at first if I think this girl is a bitch, or if she just has a twisted sense of humor. I decide to be optimistic for a change and decide on the latter. I respond back to her. I'm really interested to find out more.  **]**

**[ Message to SixSages**

I've only read through that one letter so far. Is there more info in the others? So basically Sheik didn't die like they say in the history books? He left with Link to another place and they just disappeared?

I'm majoring in History.

And I can't deny that I'm not a jackass.  **]**

I laugh to myself at that, but as I send it I wonder if she'll take it too seriously. Oh well. Too late now.

The Professor continues lecturing, and I zone out. It's a class I don't really care much for anyway. Almost fifteen minutes pass before I check my phone again.

**[ Message from SixSages**

I don't think you're a jackass. A smart ass, maybe.

The other letters are correspondence between the two starting from before he met Link right up to the point he and Link took off. There are some gaps though, missing letters that I think Impa kept with her personally. What's interesting to me, is why would there be later correspondence from Sheik to Impa when she, during the latter half of the fight against Ganondorf, was with the sages in the Sacred Realm? It makes me wonder if the sages were, in fact, able to leave the Realm at will. Or maybe the letters were delivered there by accident, and she never read them? Regardless, there's a whole lot of stuff in her place still. The village sealed it off as a historical relic, but I was just way too interested to live so close by and not check it out. It's like hearing a place is haunted and being curious to know if it really is.

You're majoring in History? So this stuff must be very interesting to you. We have something in common. I may not be studying at the academy, but I'm a history buff, like yourself.

What do you think about Link and Sheik being an item? I don't think I asked you that yet. **]**

I read through the somewhat lengthy response, strangely enjoying a conversation, something I haven't done in a while. All this deliberating about the past and its rumors is really interesting to me. Yet I feel a bit of hesitation when thinking on how to answer that last question. How open should I be about it? It is the internet after all, if she gets pissed we can always stop talking.

**[ Message to SixSages**

Well then the feeling is mutual. I think you're a smart ass, too.

I wonder if there are missing letters from Link. I'd like to know how he spoke, what his handwriting looks like. Do you know anything about him, apart from what's been written in every book imaginable?

In my opinion, I think it's very brave of them to fight so unconditionally for Hyrule together, and then take off on the back of a horse to wherever the fuck they wanted so they could live in peace. Maybe it's not the story everyone wants to hear, but I could give two-shits what gender the Hero of Time preferred. I actually think it makes him more appealing, because he followed his heart. He had the Triforce of Courage, after all. Balls of Steel.

I wonder how Princess Zelda felt about all of that.

You? **]**

I hesitate a moment before hitting send, wondering if I am consciously sabotaging whatever friendly camaraderie SixSages and I may grow to have. I send it anyway, and slump back in my chair, blowing a held breath from my lips that rustles the slightly overgrown sections of hair that fall in front of my eyes. I peer up at the classroom, noticing everyone's heads bent down, scribbling notes like their lives depended on it. I look at my notebook, full of random doodles. Productive day. I refresh the forum.

**[ Message from SixSages**

Shouldn't you be paying attention to class? It's midday on a Wednesday.

I'm also assuming you're a guy by the way you write, which I find interesting due to the fact you are so intrigued by the idea Link was gay. Nice to meet someone who isn't an unbiased asshole.

And I'm assuming again that Princess Zelda knew, because from what the history books say, she had a close, telepathic relationship with Sheik. But you should know that.

I'm going to PM you something I think you're going to like. Not until later though. You should listen to your teacher. **]**

I place my phone in my lap and set my focus on the professor, but mentally my mind is racing. She's a perceptive girl. Also, she knows way more little details than I do about the personal interactions between these historical figures. I don't remember seeing the information anywhere about Zelda's and Sheik's relationship. I'm going to have to be really annoying and ask her more questions. Not only that, but she's PM-ing me something later? I wonder what it could be.

* * *

 

The day dragged on perpetually. I tried very hard to stay focused on my studies, but I found it increasingly difficult as my mind kept wandering to everything I had learned less than 24 hours ago. Finally with the last class of the day over with and the evening sun setting well below the horizon, pink and orange glow radiating through the many windows, I sat in my usual spot in front of the Hero of Time. I take a bite from an energy bar I had originally planned to eat earlier on in the day, and I chew slowly, my eyes never leaving the blue orbs that stare expressionless down at me. I thought for a bit on how Hyrule has changed - how long ago there were Princesses and castles and Heroes and big ugly villains with hordes of monsters. I hear that if you travel far enough to the outskirts of Hyrule you can see a stray monster or two, but I find that hard to believe. The main reason I came to this academy above all others, was the fact that it used to be Hyrule Castle. I couldn't resist seeing it for my own eyes. And boy, did I spend the first couple of years scouring every inch of this place. Sadly most of it had been renovated or remodeled - it had been a long time, after all, since there was actually any royalty here. That's why I like the main hall so much.. to me it seems like the least-changed area of the whole building.

Other classmates say this place is haunted.

I'd be crazy to not agree with them.

I pull my eyes away from the Hero down to my phone, refreshing my inbox to see if I've received any new messages.

**[ Message from SixSages**

I'm sending you something now.

Why don't you just text me? I'm sure you're going to want to talk about this. +7234-1355 **]**

I'm startled for a moment; I didn't expect her to give me her number. Is she hitting on me? I refresh the page again, and see another message. However, this time, it's an image. A scan of a letter that wasn't on her blog. It's hard to see on my phone, so I make a mad dash up to my room. Once inside, I open my laptop and bring up the message. Here I can see it better. Thankfully my roommate isn't around.

_I am not the best with -._

_I am even less eloquent when I speak._

_Before I met you, I - - - was - - love. You have proven - - that - is possible._

_Thank you for - - life. Thank - for - me._

_\- L_

I stare at the writing, rushed and tentative. The script is old, and words and letters are barely legible. It's not elegant like Sheik's handwriting had been, but it's beautiful nonetheless, sharp and strong, bold.

It's a love letter, I realize.

I die a little inside.

I can't help but to place a hand over my mouth as my eyes digest this information. It's like finding a hidden piece of ancient history no one has discovered before. I don't give myself much time to think as my hand is racing to add SixSages' number to my contact list. I text her.

You're right. I have to talk about this.

Haha. I thought so.

It's a love letter.

Yes.

This is from Link?

Yes.

To Sheik?

_There is a momentary pause._

I assume so. It's not addressed to anyone.

How did you find this?

In a locked chest at Impa's.

You broke into a locked chest?

_Another pause._

Wouldn't you?

Why would Impa have it?

From what I've gathered by looking around,

it seems as if the two stopped there before

leaving Hyrule.

Did they leave a lot behind?

I'm surprised most of it was still there.

Someone wanted to protect it.

That's why it was locked up so well.

Hello, by the way. How was your day?

I'm caught off guard for a moment, her question snapping me out of my fervent question asking about the letter. It's strange to have someone actually ask how I am.

Sorry. I got all excited. Not very polite.

_Another pause._ I wonder if I pissed her off somehow.

My day was okay. Yours?

Spring break is next week, right?

Yeah..

_Curious._

Why don't you come out to Kakariko

and check it out for yourself?

I can just be your guide,

show you around and stuff.

_I'm stunned momentarily. I just met this person and she wants to meet already?_

I know we just started talking.

I'm not asking you on a date or anything.

Purely an educational excursion.

_I'm not sure how I feel about it, just yet. I'm not the most trusting guy, but I do really want to see Kakariko, see where Link and Sheik stayed for a time... it's tempting._

I'll think about it.

_I nod to myself._

you do that.

I sigh. Insufferable.

 

 

 


	2. A Spontaneous Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On how the internet can be misleading, and breaking and entering leads to sensitive information and voices from beyond. When one too many drinks and two boys alone in a room together can lead to fuzzy feelings in the brain.. and in the heart.

"What greater thing is there for two human souls

than to feel that they are joined for life?

They are there to strengthen each other

and to be at one with each other

in silent unspeakable memories."

~George Eliot

* * *

 

We talk everyday through to the weekend, and in possibly one of the most stupid decisions I will ever make in my life, I decide to go through with visiting Kakariko over spring break. With my bag packed, I head to the train station.

As I watch out the window, I see Hyrule Field for the first time. It's beautiful. In a very wise decision, the field was decided to be maintained in its original state, so only neighboring towns grew as the population needed it. I'd always wanted to go on a couple day trek across it, spend time camping out like Hylians did long ago. I never got around to it. Not yet, anyway. I figure this is good for me, hell, live for once, not just remain in the city for the rest of my life. Maybe this will get me out more.

I imagine Link riding his horse over the small hills.

I close my eyes, feeling truly inspired. Hello, smile. It's been a while.

As I exit the train, I shoot SixSages a text, and begin walking up the massive steps leading into the town. The air is different here, fresh and easier to breathe. I could probably sit on these steps and just look out into the horizon for the rest of the day. I don't know why I didn't leave the city sooner. I also am very excited to see Kakariko. It's supposedly remained as untouched as possible throughout all these years; the residents being very respectful to its past. I'm assuming it's been built up a bit, obviously, but it's nice to know people still care about things like history.

And what I see as I enter the gates is a marvel to me, like stepping back in time. I set my bag down on the ground in a daze as I stand there still, very strangely, but I couldn't help it. I bring out my phone and start taking pictures.

"Like what you see?"

I'm surprised as someone taps me on my shoulder, and I turn around, phone still in camera mode, raised. I'm still looking through it at the person in front of me.

"Taking pictures of me already?" A wry smile.

I'm confused. "Huh? Do I know you?" I look behind me just to make sure this person isn't talking to someone else. I'm an idiot.

"It's me... from the forum?"

My mouth forms a little o as I try to form words. "What?" But you're a guy!"

He laughs, folding his arms across his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" I ramble.

He shrugs. "You never asked!" he says through a large smile. But his smile fades quickly as he gets a good look at me. He tilts his head, moving forward slightly. "Your eyes," he says, leaning in, inspecting.

"Yeah.. I know.."

"You do know what I'm thinking right now, don't you?" he asks, eyes wide. They're bright and blue. He blinks slowly, lashes long and dark.

"I get made fun of it all the time at the academy.. I don't really want to talk-"

"They're incredible. I thought only Sheikah-"

"That's what they call me," I interrupt, somewhat irritated.

"Do they?" he asks, somewhat entertained by the idea.

I only stare at him, unamused. But as I do this, I realize.. this guy is really good looking. I mean, no joke. I'm not exaggerating. You know those times when you try not to pay attention, but it's just.. there. It's like that. Unavoidable. I find myself feeling a little bit like jelly.

"Come on," he says, touching my shoulder lightly, "let's get your stuff inside." He takes my bag from the ground, and begins carrying it for me.

I consider running back through the gates. Get your shit together, I tell myself. I take a deep breath. Phew. That's better.

We walk together further into the village. The buildings look just like they did in old photos, colored in deep primaries and staggered at various heights across the distance. There are people out and about, cuccos bouncing around. It's insane to me.

"I totally thought you were a girl, " I say to him as we continue walking.

He laughs. "Why?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Well, ZoraGirl said-"

"ZoraGirl is about 12 and thinks everyone is a girl," he looks at me from the corner of his eye, giving me a knowing look.

"Have you ever seen a Zora?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, they don't really venture out of their domain. I do know, however, that they are easily excitable and will believe almost anything you tell them." He gives me another smile. I'm lost in it for a moment.

* * *

 

"Here we are," he says, opening a door to a modest house near a large well towards the back of the village. He holds it open for me with his back against it until I walk inside.

I look around, and at once I get a very pleasant and somewhat eerie feeling. It's hard to describe. Like little goosebumps.

"Ah," he says, setting my bag down on a table. "You feel it too."

"Huh?" I ask, coming out of my stupor.

"This used to be Sheik's home, you know. When he lived here."

"Really?" I ask, excitedly. "Wow.. no wonder.."

"Yeah," he begins, standing still, hands in his pockets, staring around the room like he sees something I do not. There is a light there, in his eyes; a certain knowledge reflecting that I do not understand yet, at the time. He stands motionless for a moment, and then walks to a corner of the space, setting my things down carefully on the floor.

I begin to walk around, inspecting minute details, busying myself because I am unsure of what to say and how to fill the tiny bit of silence that has ensued. "How do you know that?" I question aloud.

"How do I know what?" He responds, back turned to me, clearing out space in a large cabinet - an armoire of sorts. He stretches to reach a hanger, arranging them neatly side by side. I can't quite figure him out yet, I decide, as he radiates something which is distinctly familiar - yet I wonder how that can be so. A feeling like if I touched him, it would be okay.

I place my hands in my pockets, shrugging slightly. "How do you know Sheik used to live here?"

He turns toward me, tilting his head slightly. His lids are heavy over his blue eyes, dusty blonde strands of hair finding their way in front of them - he moves his head quickly in the other direction to flick them back in place. He looks at me as if I should already know the answer to my question.

"Ever since I was a child I've felt the ghosts that linger here," he trails softly, eyes peering this way and that ever so slowly, glancing at the unseen in the shadows of the room. He glances at me then, cautiously. "You may find it strange that I say that, but all who live here speak of it - the spirits of an age since passed."

I shake my head to relieve his apparent anxiety, for I do not in fact find it strange at all. I've felt it too, in the halls of the school.. in the stained glass murals that gaze at me unwavering. The footsteps that echo throughout the night, the sounds of voices murmuring in a forgotten tongue. But I do not say so to him, I merely give him a knowing look, catching his eyes for a moment that is fleeting.

He moves from the cabinet and to a set of drawers, from which he pulls a neatly folded blanket, quilted and warm, and places it in his arms. He laughs softly. "For someone who resists being called a Sheikah, you definitely are one for a certain mysterious silence." He smiles at me briefly, and lays the blanket across a nearby sofa. "The bed is for you," he says, pointing at the rather comfortable looking queen near the corner of the room.

I shake my head quickly. "No," I refuse gently, "I can't.." I stutter.

He laughs gently again. "It's fine," he says happily, "Whenever I do manage to sleep, it always seems to be on this anyway," he confirms, patting the armrest of the sofa.

I must look like an idiot standing here, all nervous; a bumbling mess of incomplete sentences. He notices too, which I ascertain, for he is very good at filling in awkward silences.

"It's still early," he mentions. "Would you like to go to Impa's old place and take a look at what I've managed to find?"

Oh good, distractions.

"Yes," I answer quickly, nodding like an excited child.

"All right," he says, smiling again. He comes toward me, and touches my back ever so slightly. "This way."

* * *

 

We exit Six's house and veer left, across the village and up a set of stairs. He leads the way, talking about this or that, tidbits of interest. I feel a sense of relief that he is so enthused at my presence - I haven't felt welcomed by anyone in some time. I watch him run up the steps and he stops at the top, looking down at me. I take my time as I ascend, feeling again this strange sensation in the center of my chest and in my mind; a sort of familiarity that is unknown to me. I wonder how I recognize this feeling. He waits for me and I feel as if I am climbing out, escaping and ascending into a lighter world. He stands and I know him.. but I don't..

and it freaks me out a little.

"How long have you lived here?" I ask, the thought popping into my head. We near the door to Impa's, he unlocks it with a key, and opens it.

He rests against the open doorway for a moment - the inside of the house is dark and a strange smell wafts from within. "I'm from the south originally.. moved here to Kakariko when I was very young, with my grandmother."

"The south?" I ask, curiously.

"The forest," he says.

"Oh."

The door creaks a bit with his weight against it. He eyes me, as if he's waiting for me to say more, but what I can't say, for I do not know at this particular moment. It's odd that he waits like this.

"After you," he says.

"It's dark.." I answer back.

"It's abandoned," he responds. He smiles slightly, teasingly.

I sigh and walk inside, my eyes adjusting quickly. It has always been this way, my eyes. I look around and notice an oil lantern, which I move to easily and flick on. The room illuminates and it is messy - books and papers everywhere, strewn in incoherent piles. A cobweb brushes beside me and it startles me a bit, but I reveal it none, and quickly swat it away.

Six comes up behind me, taking the lantern in his hand. He lifts it and nears it to my face. "You see well in the dark," he says, a combination of a statement and a question with its intonation. His brows furrow. They are handsome brows, strong and arched.

"Well enough," I say back.

I begin then to drift around, heading for no apparent reason to a large desk. My fingers trail a dusty book, one that is very old. I worry if I open it I may destroy it. I test the binding, opening the cover carefully. It stays intact and I open it then, the rest of the way, revealing scribbles of text in ancient Hylian. From what I can decipher it is not from Impa, but Rauru one of the sages, detailing the Sacred Realm. It is amazing to me then, just how real this is. It's not from a textbook which is forced upon you in the most mundane way, but it's a diary of sorts, written in hand from experience. The reality sets upon me, and it awakens within me that passion I have always felt - the desire to know more. I close the book quietly and resume my meandering, finding Six sitting on the floor in a corner of the room next to a large chest. He looks back at me as I approach, and he pats the floor gently, motioning for me to sit beside him.

He hands me then a tiny painting, like a photograph in size. The figure represented stares back at me wordlessly.

"It's Sheik," Six says, leaning back on his palms.

I inhale deeply - it's odd, my breath catching. I bring the photo closer and I study it. He is not like the sketches from the textbooks, impersonal and uninspired. He is unique and his face etches itself into my mind, and it hurts, it hurts.. I bring my other hand to my forehead and press.

"Are you okay?" he asks me.

_Sheikah.. the truth.. hear me.. Sheikah.. let us rest.._

I hear this voice and I am mesmerized by it, I listen to it as it buzzes in my eardrums, so faint it is hardly discernible.

"Flip it over," Six says, motioning to the photo. I do so and on the flip side is another photo - the two stuck back to back.

The Hero of Time looks at me and I die. My friend watches me carefully as I gaze silently, and for some reason, some stupid reason, my eyes begin to water. The feeling I have at this moment is something akin to seeing a picture of a recently passed relative who was loved very dearly.

"You know him..?" Six asks, strangely.

I shake my head quickly. "No.."

"Hmm," he responds. "Then why are you so sad?"

"It's just a lot of.. new information," I say.

 _I know you_ , the voice whispers.

I take a deep breath. "Six.. someone is talking to me." I worry he may think I'm insane.

He looks into the darkened air, contemplative. "You remember what I was telling you earlier about ghosts?"

I nod.

"Well.. you're going to be hearing a lot of them."

* * *

 

We take a few important items from Impa's house, and carry them with us back to Six's house. The sun is beginning to set now, rich, warm tones emanating from the sky and from beyond the mountains surrounding the village. I stop for a moment to look to the stars which are becoming ever the more so visible now, and I thank the Goddesses for allowing me this escape from the city - the closed in walls of Hyrule Academy, to this simpler atmosphere. And it is here, I realize, that I can finally breathe. It is funny, that in this moment I imagine myself living here. I am slightly envious of Six now, the peaceful life in which he maintains and I want it too, I want peace and freedom, and I want time. The time to enjoy these things. The time to be me - and strangely enough I feel that I am being given the opportunity.

He looks at me, arms full of books and boxes - looks at me while I gaze off into nowhere, and he waits. He always waits. He is very patient. And when I am done he comes closer beside me, and we walk in silence together until we reach his home.

Inside we sit amidst Impa's scattered belongings, and I pick Six's brain consistently about each item.

"Do you want this?" he asks, handing me the photo from earlier. He gestures it towards me, Hero side up.

"Yes," I say and reach for it, but he holds it still in his hand, and I am forced to meet his gaze, questioning. He says nothing, but his eyes search mine. His moments of intensity, like this one, are frequent but I do not ask him about it, I simply let him do it and perhaps to others they might find it odd, but to me..

"You can keep it," he says, interrupting my thoughts. "It never hurts to have some extra courage with you." He smiles then, laughing a bit at the silly line.

"Thanks," I say, and I think about how I like my new friend. I like looking at him and I like how he accepts me. I feel then the warning in my chest and I stop thinking immediately. I bring the Hero's photo to my gaze and I look upon him. "He must have been something to see in person," I add.

Six laughs loudly. "Yeah he was quite the looker, huh?"

I laugh in return, and I stand up quickly, walking to the small table beside the bed. "I'll just leave this here," I say as I prop the photo up, displaying it. I jokingly take my time positioning it just perfectly, and Six laughs again at me as I hide a smile that wants to creep upon my lips.

"You do that," he says, feigning seriousness.

I return to the floor beside him. "Tell me everything you know," I ask of him, spontaneously.

He takes a deep breath. He is probably unsure of where to begin. He pauses for a moment, thinking. He opens his mouth occasionally to say something, but stops before forming an entire word. Finally, he says, "There is something that doesn't sit well with me.. the continuity of the Hero's story.. I've read everything there is of importance from Impa's and I just can't figure out where he and Sheik went off to, or what happened to them." He trails off, silence again for a minute. "I think something bad happened, to tell you the truth. I feel.. a lot of unrest.. spirits left with unfinished business."

This surprises me a bit. I had the inclination that they had disappeared together happily. "Why do you feel that way?" I ask.

"There is a letter here, from Princess Zelda," he begins looking through the documents and finds the one he is referring to, "in it, she replies to Link about his request for her to give to him the Ocarina of Time again. Apparently he wanted to go back, and the situation seemed dire." He hands the letter to me.

"Back where?" I ask, as I skim the handwriting.

"Back to a certain point in time.. I'm guessing.. to rectify some sort of error."

I continue reading. "She denies him?" I exclaim.

He nods slowly. "Yeah. And then, there's nothing after that.. no other letters from him, to him, about him." He trails off, but turns to me suddenly. "I get the feeling, that he was alone." He looks at me sadly.

"But, I thought he and Sheik.." I begin, sentence ending without a conclusion, the answer formulating itself in my brain before the words could come out. "Wait.. you're telling me.."

"I think something very terrible happened. I think yes, that they left together, but that it ended before its time.. before it was supposed to."

My heart sinks. I imagine a slew of horrible scenarios in my head, and the Hero, left broken hearted and alone. I don't know what to say then, in that moment, and as I think we both sit silently, mulling over what seems to have been the fate of the Hero of Time.

"You know," Six says, breaking the silence, "I was planning on doing some investigating, but I've hit a few snags. You wanna go on an adventure with me? Do you have the time?"

 _The time.. the time.. the time.. enough time.._ the voice repeats in my head.

"I.." I try to answer but the voice continues, it gets louder. "I.. I'm sorry I.. the voices.. they won't stop." I cover my ears in a failed attempt. What the fuck is going on?

"Hey," he says, coming toward me, and gently takes both my hands from my ears and into his own near his chest. "Look at me," he prompts and I do so, "don't let them bother you," he continues. And his touch is electrifying - it frightens me a bit and I pull away. He remains there motionless as I avoid his gaze. Great.. so much for coming off cool and collected. Dammit.

"Look, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.. I just know what those voices sound like and I was trying to -"

"It's okay," I interrupt gently. "Listen, this isn't the first time in my life I've heard stuff like this. I heard strange things, felt strange things, in the academy, too. It's just really strong here, that's all. Please don't think I'm crazy, because I'm not, I promise you." I try to smile.

He smiles slightly. "I don't think that," he says, and I believe him.

* * *

 

We do not talk anymore about adventures or voices the rest of the night. I lay on the bed on my stomach, head resting in my hands, with Six sitting on the floor beside me, us both enjoying alcohol he had picked up from the store not too long ago. He pours me another glass - I didn't realize mine was empty already - and I thank him.

"I must have needed this," I say, laughing. I take a swig from the glass.

"I've gotta say, I'm surprised at your resistance to this stuff," he replies, looking at the label of the bottle.

"Hey I've only had two glasses!"

He pretends to count seriously with his fingers. "Three."

"How many have you had, then?"

"Four," he replies.

"I'm surprised at your resistance to this stuff," I say back to him. "Must be the muscles."

"What?!" he spurts out, laughing.

"Do you work out all the time? Like, pumping iron all day?"

"I am not that muscular."

"Yeah whatever you say." I take a big sip from my glass.

"I run a lot, actually. I'm into some sports.. old-school stuff like archery. On the weekends I help out on the horse trails.. I lead people up and down Death Mountain on horseback for fun."

I laugh. "Death Mountain on horseback sounds terrible! People pay to do that?"

"Eh it's pretty tame, actually. It's been a long time since it was treacherous, you know," he replies, raising his eyebrows. "The view is incredible up there. Kinda romantic at sunset."

"Meh."

He sips from his glass, eyes looking at me. "Meh? You wouldn't want to take someone up there on horseback, make out under the setting sun? I betcha that's what your Hero of Time did, long ago." He winks at me.

"Nah I'm done with relationships."

"You're such a downer."

"Whatever. Hey, could you fill me up?" I reach my now empty glass towards him, and he takes it, pops some ice cubes inside, and pours to the brim.

"Kakariko Preserves, my friend," he laughs, handing my newly filled glass back to me.

I feel the dark liquid warm my mouth and the burn is pleasant as it travels down into my stomach. I hadn't planned on getting drunk tonight, but it looks like it may end up that way.

"Do you like people?" I ask randomly, my head resting lazily on my hand.

He laughs. "What?"

"I don't like people very much," I say.

"Do you like me?" he asks. He takes a sip from his glass. His lips are wet.

"You're alright."

"You like Link," he states, taking another sip. I watch his throat as he swallows.

"He's dead," I say back matter-of-factly.

Six raises his eyebrows. "True, but he was alive once. Would you have liked him less then?"

I shake my head fiercely. "Who said I liked him?"

He laughs again. "It's apparent." He stands awkwardly, and sits beside me on the bed, stumbling only briefly. "What would you say to him now, if he were here?" He smiles strangely. He is swaying a bit in my vision, head outlined by the golden light emanating from the lamp directly behind him.

I sit up, holding onto his leg for balance. I face him and try to put on a serious expression. "Oh, Hero of Time -", I start, jokingly.

"No," Six interrupts, "For real." His eyes are wide, focused.

My head drifts and I look up at the ceiling to concentrate. "I would say... are you real?"

He laughs quietly. "That's what you would say?"

I tug on his shirt gently. "Green looks good on you."

"You would tell him that?" he asks, still laughing.

"No.." I begin, slurring, "I'm telling you that."

"Oh," he says quietly. He looks down at my hand on his shirt briefly, and looks up at me again through his dark lashes. "Thanks."

I let go of the fabric, my hand slipping down into his lap lazily. Wow, get a grip, I tell myself. You're drunk. I lay back, falling haphazardly onto the blanket. Six rushes over me, grabbing the glass I almost drop onto his floor. He sets it gently down on the bedside table. The warm liquid fuzzes around my brain, the room, sways gently back and forth. I feel like I'm on a ship, sailing to a wonderful place.

I hear Six picking up other glasses from the floor, moving about the room in his bare feet. I hear him then come near me, and I feel a warmth surrounding my body. Another blanket. Nice. "Mmph," I mutter.

"Mmm hmm," he says.

And I peer up from my horizontal state and watch him quietly as he nears the sofa. He removes his shirt in one swift motion and.. oh.. I shouldn't be thinking this.. damn alcohol..

It's one of those things.. that you can never unsee, and I know I'm going to wake up in the morning and have to talk to him and not unsee it, and..

curse those old-school sports of his. Curse those horses and bows and arrows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tap. Tap. Is the mic on? Oh, it is? It sure is quiet out there! The lights are so bright up here and I can hardly see you, but make sure to leave me a round of applause below so I know you're still in the audience! Thank you kindly :)


	3. No Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship becomes more real as some hardships reveal themselves, spirits from the past manifest and plead for help from those who still live, and a decision to embark on a very personal journey doesn't leave much room for changing one's mind before it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have stopped by the previous chapters to read. I don't know who you are, but I appreciate your time nonetheless.

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;

what is essential is invisible to the eye. "

~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

* * *

 

I hear cuccos outside.. and the sun, the sun is spilling in through the window, I can see it through the one eye I have slightly opened. And the room, unfamiliar, greets me, as I realize I'm not in the dorm room I've called home for the past 2 years.

On the table beside me, a cup of coffee from a shop, the lid still on top. I feel the cup and it's still warm. On the table also a note,

_Good morning. The coffee is for you._

I taste it and it is very good although slightly cooled, the caffeine propelling me to lift myself out of bed. I shower and dress, and bring what's left of my coffee outside with me as I exit the house.

I figure he is at Impa's, so I walk there slowly. A building to my right catches my eye, what appears to be a gift shop, and I step inside. It's strange in here, dusty and old, knickknacks piled up everywhere, and a strange man at the counter with a hood. There is some odd music playing as well, like a medieval apothecary if you can imagine it. I feel the urge to leave but a display near the counter distracts me. I don't own a vehicle as I've never needed one, but I spot an elaborate keychain that draws my attention. It's a Sheikah Eye, and it calls to me, wavering ever so slightly on its hook. I take it in my hands and turn it over - 30 rupees.. damn, what a rip-off. Regardless, I keep it with me as I turn the carousel display to the left, stopping at a Triforce. It's golden and shiny and I suddenly think of Six, and then I figure I'm crazy for buying another dude a gift. Crazy or not, I buy both. I tuck them away in my pocket.

I see him at Impa's, kneeling over some wild flowers that have grown near the perimeter of the house. He has a bunch already in his left hand. The green hoodie he wears shields his face, and I don't think he can see me.

"Morning," I say to him.

"Oh," he says, standing up, dusting off some dirt from his pants. "Morning."

"Whatcha doing?"

He adds a few more flowers to the bunch, "I'm going to see my grandma. It'll only take a sec. Do you want to come with me?"

"Sure," I reply, shrugging casually, hands in my pockets.

We walk together down the steps again and then north, past even Six's house near the well. Clouds are beginning to gather in the sky, the sunlight blocking out, casting shadows over the town. It smells like rain.

"Strange weather," I remark, feeling a raindrop hit my cheek.

He turns toward me, his face silhouetted in the green of the hoodie pulled over his head. "That's why I wore this," he says and smiles. "It always rains a bit up here anyway."

I follow him through a stone archway and up a grass paved path. It's like the area was once a part of the mountain that was carved away long ago for this particular area, and the pathway is narrow until it opens up, revealing a larger space. I wonder why his grandma would live in such a place and then I realize.. it's a graveyard.

We continue on and stop at a headstone near the center, and he kneels down, placing a wild flower on top of the stone and a few more across the grass. He is quiet as he stays there, thinking I'm sure of her. I wonder then what she was like. If she was his only family left then.. he must be awfully lonely.

"I'm sorry," I say, for I knew not much else to. I remain standing, peering down at him. I am not good at situations such as these.

Six feels the blades of grass with his fingertips. "It's been a long time. I can't say it's always been easy, but.. she always told me to be brave." He lowers his hoodie and rakes his fingers through his blonde hair. The strands are slightly wet now, but he doesn't seem to mind. He stands then and takes my hand. "Come here," he says, pulling me to the back of the graveyard.

We end at a large tree, and at its base, an elaborate headstone. He has one wild flower left, and places it in my hand. "I saved this one for you," he tells me. I don't quite understand what he means, so I read what is discernible within the engravings on the withered stone before me.

"The cursed swordsman.. sleeps before the sacred tree"

"Are you serious?" I ask him, my head turning, I'm sure with a most unpleasant expression on my face.

"I'll give you a moment," he says, looking at me briefly with knowing eyes before walking away, back towards the entrance of the graveyard.

I'm stunned because first of all, I can not believe that this is what they wrote on the Hero's headstone. I mean, I feel terrible! Six is right.. there must be things we don't know. Why else would they forever brand the Hero as being cursed? And then, this feeling overwhelms me and I drop to my knees, the flower falling to the water-soaked ground. I feel a little unworthy to be here, to be honest, but at the same time..

 _you miss him_ , the voice says to me. _Do not cry._

And before I have an opportunity to stop myself I say quietly, "I miss you," and I do not know why. If the earth could move at will, it seems to, and I touch it to cease its trembling. Rain falls from the sky like tears, and someone is crying, I think to myself.. someone is crying. There is a lot of pain here, a lot of regret, and it is too much for me, so I stand.

Beside this grave lies the royal family too, I notice, and I regard the Princess Zelda's headstone. "What did you do to him?" I whisper. "Why did you deny him?". And a rush of wind, a light whisper.

A female voice. _I did not._

It frightens me and I turn, wishing to be reunited with Six.

We meet again at the entrance, my sneakers soaked through to their soles. The grass makes sloshing noises as we walk, cold and wet.

* * *

 

"I have something I want to show you," Six says as we approach his home. I welcome the interior, accepting its warmth and escape from the grey world outside.

"No more dead things," I say lightheartedly.

"Not quite," he reiterates, pulling out a chair from his desk, motioning for me to sit. I remove my coat and hand it to him, which he hangs on a hook near the front door. In front of me lies a map of Hyrule, and on it, red markings and circles and arrows, which Six seems to have made. And beside this map, a medium-sized box, closed.

"Open it," he says, gesturing.

I look at him with apprehension - I didn't feel like any more surprises for today. But I do, I open it, the hinges creaking as the lid unfolds. Inside it, a mask. A white mask with colored swirls and shapes. I look to him again for permission and he nods, so I pick up the mask carefully, letting it rest in my hands. It is not terribly heavy, nor is it cheap. It looks to be made of a light porcelain - it stares at me with cut-out eyes.

"The Mask of Truth," Six adds, as I gaze upon it. "And these markings," he points to the map before me, "these markings are the locations of Gossip Stones, spread throughout Hyrule."

"Gossip Stones," I repeat aloud, "they hold the wisdom of the Sheikah."

"That they do," he adds, "but I have a feeling they hold more than that."

Six kneels beside my chair, looking up at me. His blue eyes waver in the dim light; a desperation.

"Hear me out," he continues, staring. "This letter here," he shows me a folded piece of paper, and sets it on the desk in front of me, "if after you've read this letter you still won't go with me, I'll drop it and we'll hang out the rest of this week and forget about it."

I think about the possibilities of his statement. "You want to travel to these stones? Why haven't you done so yourself?" I'm curious as to why he needs me to do this with him, and what an endeavor this will be.. there are countless of these stones across Hyrule, some even in places untouched for hundreds of years. "Have you not used the mask yourself? According to this map," I point out a location, in Kakariko Village, "there is one not far from here. Certainly you must have been curious enough to try."

Six takes the mask into his own hands, feeling the smooth material with his thumbs. "I have."

"And?"

He stalls for a moment. "The messages.. they weren't meant for me." He shrugs.

A look of confusion is most likely visible on my face as I try to comprehend what he just said. "What do you mean?"

"The magic.. it was all blurry to me.. I couldn't make out anything clearly."

"Wait a minute," I say, speaking anxiously, "you saw things?"

"Yes."

"But how will I be any different? How will I be able to see what you have not?" I ask.

Six sighs, seemingly summoning some sort of courage. "Because they asked for you," he answers, finally.

And I can't say a word then, goosebumps of sorts traveling down my arms, a chill around the back of my neck. My brows are furrowed, I'm sure, and my lips pressing tightly together, a thin line of silence. I bring my fingertips to them, contemplative, as I sit and make poor Six wait; he squirms a bit uncomfortably, messing with his hair. After a moment I say to him, "who are _they_?"

He looks almost bashful. "Those who created the messages. There is more to this mask, more to the power of the stones than I think you realize. You don't just.. see. It's like.." he tries to explain the vision he encountered, "an interactive memory. And these memories, they were left for a reason, very strategically, for a purpose. A purpose that isn't intended for me."

"How do they know me?" I wonder aloud, folding my arms across my chest; a protective barrier.

"Does anyone question the Goddesses? The Triforce? They just are, and this is what it is, and for some reason.. you were meant to come here. Look, we can go to the graveyard. There is a Gossip Stone near the old temple. You can try, just once, and if you don't like it.. that's it." There is no harm in Six's eyes - no mal intent, no scheming. His pupil's waver and the irises, sky blue, peer into me telepathically, like they have since I arrived. For some reason I cannot deny him. I feel this weird obligation to him, one that is so very alarming since I have not trusted anyone for quite some time. I wonder then, how much better off I'd be if I said no, and went back to the academy - that cold, dark place that offers me only sadness and loneliness. And that is when I answer Six, because I realize how much better off I'd be, if I stayed.

"I'll try it," I respond, and there is no going back.

* * *

 

_To he who has forgotten -_

_This mask has been left for you._

_Wear it and speak to me, Sheikah of a modern age._

_We have sacrificed much, and as such I cannot bear to be separated from him._

_So heed the memories I have left you,_

_and connect them so that our past, present, and future_

_can be spent with the one we cannot be without._

_Do not take lightly time which passes without end._

_It is the one thing we could not defeat._

_We will die trying, so you will not have to._

_Reunite me with my Hero again, and so shall you be with yours._

_\- Sheik_

The letter swirls around in my head as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Finally, when dreams take me, I am engulfed in darkness thus letting the spirits have access to my innermost subconscious. I see faces, hear voices, feel many tiny and cold fingers touching my skin. And the Mask of Truth, it appears from nowhere, becoming visible from behind a curtain of the darkest, blackest fog, and it nears forth, until it aligns itself before my eyes.

Peering out through the open holes, I see bits of inky rain, scattering down from somewhere above. The sky turns a deep amber then, a bronzed horizon, pixelated and broken. Then, in the distance, something materializes into view; a hunched over figure covered in the heaviest of armors. Unwillingly I am pushed forth, until I near it, and the body language of this creature - exhausted and defeated, its painful existence - kneels its tired form towards the earth.

As I continue ever closer, it brings a metal hand to the floor and turns its head, and its skeletal face reveals itself to me; gaping eyes, hollow and infinite. It simply looks at me, and then turns away, head bowing in melancholic regret. It does not speak to me as the other spirits have, perhaps it does not have the strength, but I feel its emotions tangible. And I can do nothing but feel sorry for this armored ghost, until I sense the worst pain imaginable attach itself to my nervous system. I yell, for it hurts like no other, and this pain wakes me..

bringing me into today.

* * *

 

"Do you ever wonder why the past intrigues you so much?" Six asks, as we sit together near the entrance to what was known as the Shadow Temple.

The Gossip Stone before us stares unblinking, the Mask of Truth, positioned between my hands. It is dark in this open, cavernous space in which we sit, the door to the temple a void where a breeze howls lightly from within its interior.

I look to him. "I've always felt as if I am just going through the motions of every day life, "I begin as he hangs off my every word, "like my existence has no real meaning - like a ghost floating through hallways, unable to connect with the here and now. I thought at first I was only depressed, unhappy with who I was, what I have been able or unable to accomplish." Six nods, ever non judgemental. I continue, "Once I started learning of Hyrule's past, the mysteries of it most people glaze over without a second thought, I knew that devoting what time I had to unravel it would bring me some sort of peace.. almost like finishing a puzzle that had been left incomplete."

Six breathes deeply, his arms wrapped around his knees, brought up to his chest. He sits casually, staring up at the rocky surface of the large alcove, eyes tracing. "I guess that's what passions are built from," he says softly, "the desire to know all of what is meaningful to us."

I rest the mask in my lap, and lean back, my palms on the ground behind me. "How about you, " I ask, "why does it interest you?" It is very still here, rain mixed with the earth creating a scent to the air; musky and old.

He is quiet for a moment, thinking. "My grandma would tell me bedtime stories when I was very young. Tales of the hero who saved Hyrule, his friends and his foes. But the story would have no real end.. and I'd ask her why, why is this story so sad? And she'd tell me, because it IS sad. Because sometimes heroic tales don't end as they should, and sometimes they don't end at all. I'd ask her then, how can a story from so long ago not be finished?" he trails, his sentence losing volume. His breath catches as he continues, "She said, some stories span lifetimes, and many characters come into play. She said, sometimes there are many heroes and many villains, and that maybe Hyrule's history is too great, too important to be finite."

I think about this, about the possibilty of the past being interwoven with the now. "It's different here, than in the city," I say thoughtfully, "in the city everyone is busy with preparing for tomorrow. Here, in Kakariko, it's like everyone has just stopped for a moment. I find that here people live from what has happened, where as in the city, people live off what may be. It's almost like, because the past is so tangible here, you can't ignore it." I wonder if I am making any sense, trying to formulate my ideas verbally and I think I may be coming off as extremely vague. "I didn't come from the city, you know. I was born in a town that rested against Lake Hylia."

Six's expression changes from contemplative to slight surprise. "Really?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah. I was really sick all the time, and I was in bed constantly. I didn't have a lot of energy to do anything, so I spent a lot of time reading, watching the sun rise and set from my bedroom window. My parents called in every doctor they could and nothing was helping, until one in particular suggested I go to the city for better care. That's when I began staying at the academy. They have great doctors there and state-of-the-art medical equipment and technologies."

Six's expression changes again, this time sympathetic and concerned.

I continue, "I would always tell my mom, 'my heart is broken'. She'd ask me where it hurt, and I'd tell her, _'everywhere_ '. Turns out, I had a partial canal defect, atrioventricular, and I ended up having surgery. I've been fine since, but.. I still feel like there's a hole there, you know? Like it's been patched, up but.." I trail off, not really sure where I am going with all this.

"I'm so sorry.." he says softly.

"It's alright," I reply.

"And you've been at the academy all this time? Since the surgery?"

I nod lamely. "Yep. Because at first I needed to be watched, you know, to make sure nothing else went wrong. When it didn't, my parents just suggested I stay and continue my education there, just in case things got bad again. It never did, and... I never really heard from my folks again either. I would get letters and phone calls all the time at first, but every year.. it slowly dissipated." I bite my lower lip. "I probably hear from them twice a year, usually on the holidays. After that, I began to manifest this ill-will.. this disdain for them. And that's when I slowly started to distract myself with a time when people truly meant something, a time when people did really meaningful things and were honored for it - Hyrule's past." I sigh and look at Six in his eyes. "When I found out from you that the Hero of Time's life and the one he loved so dearly went to hell.. I just.." I fumble for words. "I just had to find out why. Because then maybe.. maybe it would bring me some sort of peace as well."

I smile at him, because even though it hurts, I'm glad he is there listening to me. And he doesn't judge and doesn't tell me what I should do about it, and for that I am thankful. I get this weird sensation now, that I wish for him to hold me, but I resist it.

"I'm ready," I say after a moment, taking the mask again in my hands and readying it.

"Are you sure?" he asks. He looks very worried, his hand reaching out somewhat to let me know it's okay to stop.

"Please," I say sarcastically, "just because I totally ruined the mood with my sob story it doesn't mean I'm not ready to do this." I smile at him teasingly.

I bring the mask up to my face, and place it there, and as I go into seemingly complete darkness, I hear Six yell, "Wait!" before I am consciously there no more.

* * *

 

I'm nowhere - or that's what it seems like as I drift through blackness and fog. And after what feels like an eternity, I see someone in the distance. A figure, silhouetted in light. Its hand is outstretched, reaching for mine. I try to reach out as well, but realize I don't have a hand to do so with. It doesn't seem to matter though, for the figure acknowledges it as I near. I land, it feels like on my knees, and I look up to see its face.

"Sheik," I say. My voice echoes, though how I do not know. There are no walls.

I feel so small before him, and I do not mind. He comes closer toward me, and kneels on one knee. He is breathtaking and I don't know what to say.

"I have been waiting a very long time for you," he says. His voice pierces my mind, like he is speaking directly into it.

"Where am I?" I ask. I try not to sound frightened, but I am.

"You are issuing forth a chain of events that you are meant to bear witness to. You will only begin to understand as you undertake them. Each time you place the Mask of Truth upon your face, you will relive certain moments of my life that I preserved in the Gossip Stones especially for you." He lifts my chin and we look into each other's eyes; red onto red. "You will not be the same once you do this. Do you accept your fate, Sheikah?"

"What is the point of this?" I ask quietly.

He rises, pulling me up with him. He stands taller than I. "Do you believe in love?" He asks.

"I.." I begin, stammering, unsure, "I'm not sure. I have never been."

"I was the same as you - bitter and untrusting. You have much to learn, as I did. You will not regret this, I assure you, for it will change everything. Our paths intertwine like currents, and they connect to the same end; only in different times, different bodies." He takes my hands in his own. "I beg of you, Sheikah, do this for me.. do this for the one we love. You know whom I speak of." And he is very close to me, and I am so confused but I start crying, because somehow.. I understand. "We share the same tears," he says, wiping one from my cheek with his finger. "I know this because I have shed them for an eternity in this realm. But do not cry, young one, for we will be happy once again. We do not have to be alone anymore." And he is not tangible because I try to grab hold of him as he dissipates, like smoke caught in a wisp of air.

I am left by myself. I am in shock and I am still in this dark and terrible place. What do I do? How do I get out of here? He wants to me do things but I don't even know.. I don't even know..

I'm weak, I realize. Why me? He called me Sheikah. Is it true? Are we related somehow? How is that possible?

And in that moment, I am lifted up, and the next thing I know, I am lying in bed. I am startled and I think I see Six lying next to me, and then I'm grabbing onto him, holding him close as I muffle my confused sobs into his chest. I don't care what he thinks at this point, I'll explain it to him once I regain my damn self-composure. He smells so nice and his bare chest feels so smooth against my face.

"Shh," he hushes me, holding me tight.

I suddenly feel so safe, like I could stay there for the rest of my life. But he moves on top of me, his body strong, and I am pinned beneath him. I don't know what's going on, but I feel a tingly excitement all over me as he presses himself close. And then, I feel his lips on my neck, whispers of a touch, warm breath. His chest is against mine. I get goosebumps all over and I squirm; it feels foreign to me but good. I don't have time to think before he is kissing me - velvety lips ghosting over mine, sublime wetness, the sweetest taste I have ever experienced. And I realize now that I do not have total control of my body, almost as if I am in someone else's - a subconscious puppet with limited strings. I'm kissing him back, no.. it's not me.. I am not sure if my thoughts can control actions, yet I feel every sensation. His lips are soft and malleable. He doesn't push me away, no.. he continues and all of this pent up sexual frustration I have been feeling for the past four years just boils up and wants to explode out from me. I don't honestly know how I can kiss him any harder, but I want to. I need to. I'm grabbing onto his hair and messing it between my fingers. I'm feeling his ears, touching their lengthy tips. He shudders over me. Holy shit, I think. What is..

"Six?" I ask as I pause for a breath of air.

And he stops, and I see him. He lifts up, his face in the darkened room, I can see it, and it's not Six. It's not Six.

"What are you talking about?" he whispers breathily, concerned.

My mouth is open as I search for words, and the only thing that can come to mind is one name, and I say it then, without anything else to lose.

"Link?" I ask.

He smiles.

And I look at my hands then, bringing them up to my vision, around the other body positioned over mine, and they're not mine. They're not mine. And I realize now who's memory I am experiencing, and now I understand what Six meant about 'interactive memories'. I think back to Sheik, whom I spoke to only moments before, and I know now what he also meant by being changed forever.

I believe him now.


	4. Heart Full of Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you have a little taste, does the memory of it ever go away? Memories are memories, after all. It's up to us on how much they exist in the now.

This chapter is dedicated to  **AnnoyingSword217**.  
You left me a review recently that renewed my creative process,  
and this update happened because of what you said and how it impacted me.

I am in your thanks.

And, thank you to all who have been patiently waiting. You'll hear from me again soon.

* * *

My first memory as a child was one not of my own. I had dreams of a strange blackness eating away at my legs, my arms. I would wake in the hospital, screaming, swatting at an invisible plague that none of the doctors, or my family could see.

I had heart problems, that was the diagnosis and the only logical malady that could be identified. However, at night as I closed my eyes, the fear would return and I would lay silently yearning to go home. Yet, it was a home that wasn't mine.

As I linger in someplace not physically tangible, I hear a voice pulling me out, away from the academy hospital and away from another memory - the one of Sheik's.

I feel hands upon me, I hear his voice yelling. Panic. As my eyes open I see him, afraid and wet from the rain.

He nears me as I come to, encompassing me in his arms as I lay there on the ground, and I can feel his shaking body, the dripping strands of his hair brushing across my face. My eyes blink a few more times and I remember where I am.

"I thought you were dead. I would never have forgiven myself for it," he whispers, and it's not Sheik at all. It's Six.

I breathe for what seems like the first time in a long while, and it comes out as a shudder. Almost as if I had drowned. Perhaps it was death I was drowning in. I can't say for sure.

"I'm here," I say to him, and I force my right hand to touch him, although it feels like it is not my own - a weight so heavy, like my brain is trying to reconnect all the tiny nerves and muscles that make my body mine.

And we stay like this for moments more, but all I can think about is the Hylian I met just a time before; the strength of the hero on top of me, the courage I had felt radiate from him.. the love.. it was still coursing through me. There is a strange yearning now, one which pools like a sublime sadness in my broken heart, and I want to cry. And I do.

They aren't gentle tears, and my body erupts with a force. I release my touch on Six and my hand falls to the ground, and I yell, and as I do this the energy from that other place pushes forth from me like a current. I was expelling it.

But he does not let me go.

He waits there, holding me close ever still. I am happy for the contact but at the same time, I want to push him away. Push him far away. And yet I don't, because I suppose I don't really want to. I don't know what I want.

As I calm, Six sits and takes my hand. He is pulling toward him, urging me to move.

"We need to get out of this rain," he says.

I hold onto him, and we stand together, and he lets me lean most of my weight on him as we exit the temple grounds and down to the graveyard.

Inside his house, I change into warm, dry clothes and collapse onto his bed. He changes too and busies himself with things, I'm not sure what, and a silence falls over us. My throat is dry and my breathing still ragged, but a feeling of euphoria is there, like the beginnings of an addiction to something previously not tasted before.

"Do you want to be alone?" Six asks from another corner of the room. He is a bit cautious, quiet.

I shake my head. "No..," I begin, "I'll be fine."

"What did you see?" he asks.

I pause, trying to think of where to even start. "I went several places. At first I was in darkness, floating. Sheik was there."

"Sheik was there?" Six repeats, eyes widening.

"Yes, at least, a form of him. He looked just like the photographs, but a bit transparent. He told me he had been waiting for me, for a long time, and that I'm supposed to do this with you.. supposed to go to the gossip stones."

"Really? So it was true.." Six says.

"You were right," I say to him, "there are memories, moments, he's left in the stones. I don't know if I was able to see more than you did when you wore the mask.."

"I only heard voices, clouded imagery. Like a bad connection - it wasn't at all clear."

I'm quiet for just a few seconds, and in those seconds, I wonder to myself how much I should divulge. What I witnessed, was a very personal thing. What else will I bear witness to and what of it would be okay to share? Would Sheik want that?

So, I decide to be careful.

"I saw the Hero of Time.."

Six turns to me, but he does not seem surprised. His face is eerily still, expressionless. He leans on the desk nearby, his fingers lightly brushing its surface. He waits.

I begin to toy with my hands a bit. A nervous habit, and I hope he doesn't notice. "It was very brief, but it seemed to be an encounter between he and Sheik, but not much was said. I'm not quite sure what it meant."

Six smiles slightly, thoughtfully. "Did it feel real to you?" he asks.

I'm a little bit breathless. "Yes," I respond.

"You almost died."

"Wouldn't be the first time," I say.

Six realizes my attempt at morbid humor, and he laughs, and then moves to sit on the side of the bed next to me. I feel the mattress dip, and I think about reality then, how something like this can be real.. the tiniest movements. But what is real? There is something between this place and the next, and it confuses me, because I don't know really where in that spectrum I belong.

"Can you feel me?" Six asks, placing a hand on one of my blanket covered legs.

"Yes," I say and then ask, "Why?"

"Just making sure you're still here," he replies. He sounds a bit far away. He stands then, and reaches for the lamp beside the bed. Before switching it off he says, "Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning."

And the light goes off, and he moves away, and I'm alone again in this darkness. But I'm not traveling anywhere this time, and as my body slowly sinks deeper and deeper into the softness of the mattress, I feel relieved this time to stay where I am.

* * *

The few bags laid out are open and partially stuffed with necessities. In a backpack - energy bars, bottled water, a first aid kit which we both hoped we wouldn't have to use, amongst other tidbits from modern life we agreed to take with us. Also a duffle bag with camping gear, blankets and other such equipment for the nights out in the field, and another pack which Six pulled around his shoulder with the map and other navigational items we would need. The Mask of Truth he placed inside his bag as well, wrapped snugly in a soft towel.

We ate a light breakfast, went over our route to the stones. We were restless and excited, our knees bouncing as we sat and ate, talking with our mouths full and chugging glasses of orange juice.

We stand at the doorway, packed up and ready. I take one last look inside Six's place. Wait, why did I do that? It's almost like I had the feeling I would never see it again.. the thought makes me still.

"You ready?" Six asks, his hand on my shoulder.

I snap out of it. "Yeah.. yeah I am," and I smile at him to let him know everything is okay.

Six looks rougishly handsome in his gear - light brown jeans and a nice pair of hiking boots, bag slung over his shoulder - a bounce in his step.

"Come on!" he says to me, grabbing my hand. We jog happily to the Kakariko gate, and as he leads me I see something I can't quite identify. A glowing silhouette around him, and it looks briefly like he has separated into two. Like, something being replayed but the second time isn't the same, if that makes sense.

This isn't the first time I wonder if I'm losing my mind.

As we run down the cobbled steps into Hyrule Field, he turns his head to me briefly and smiles. It happens in slow motion, and his smile elates me and I am in awe of him. Take me with you, Six. I'll go anywhere with you. It's a scary thought.

"Anywhere with you, Hero," I say, the words coming out like a mess I wish I could clean up.

He stops. He turns fully to me, walking slowly, closing the proximity. He has a look on his face, and it's hard for me to describe. Surprise? Confusion? It's like he understands but he does not, which is baffling to me because I don't know exactly where what I said came from.

He takes my hand in a firm grip.

"Sheikah," he says. He raises one eyebrow.

Dear oh dear.. what have we gotten ourselves into? I feel reality slipping away, but I fight to hold it. I return his grip even tighter, and I think we both understand. We look at each other, deeply beyond just the colored irises, and we know.. we know.

You will not be the same, Sheik had warned me, when I had been under the power of the mask.

But that power is with us now, and Hyrule Field opens itself up to us - the rising sun behind our backs, the rays of light pointing forward.

I turn to a red mailbox, just outside the gates, and take a letter from my pocket. I hold it for a second, and then, without question, I open the chute and drop it inside, letting it fall from my hands and hit the bottom with a tiny thud.

I wrote a letter to the Academy. I told them I'd be taking some time off.

Just how long? Well.. I wasn't exactly sure.

We stop at a small bridge, connecting two points of land severed by the waters coming from what used to be called Zora's Domain. There is a plaque there, and we both take a moment to read it. We are still holding hands. For some reason it feels like the right thing to do.

_The beginning of a journey_

_Starts with a simple step,_

_May the Goddesses guide you,_

_to the fields and beyond._

_Kakariko Bridge_

_est. construction - Pre Hyrulian Civil War_

* * *

The beeps had become ambient. At first it was a constant reminder of where I was, that my young body was a slave to this machine. At first it terrified me, to know that if they ever stopped, I wouldn't hear it. Yet, they kept on beeping, and I kept on living. The hospital had become all I knew.

"What is this?" my mother had asked one day, showing me a piece of paper she had found beside my bed. It crumpled in her hands, the sound of her waving it, ruining it. "Why do you keep drawing this?"

I reached my hand out. "Please be careful with tha.."

"Who is this, in your drawing?" she demanded.

"It's.." I began, trailing off. I bit my lower lip.

It was a drawing, one I replicated often. I called him my spirit guide, and he was in my dreams and he took me out of the hospital, far away to a place where I was better. A future where I was loved. I drew him all the time, us holding hands, flying somewhere, with hearts and clouds and sunshine.

I could never tell her who it was. She would never believe me and then they'd find another reason to keep me here. She was worried about my sexual orientation, most likely. But back then I didn't think about that.

In my dreams, the beeping was gone and my heart was better. But they weren't just dreams, they were visions, now that I recall them. A lot like wearing that mask.

What if that piece was out there? That piece of my heart that was missing when I was sick.. that piece that is still missing even though they said it wasn't anymore.

They said the road to recovery would be long. That it would be hard.

However, there are many roads - roads which lead this way and that.

There's a road out there for everyone, I think. You just have to be brave enough to take it.

* * *

The stone skips a few times before falling into the water. It's a crystalline blue, calm and still.

"You can do better than that," Six says, teasing me, eyeing the pebble as sinks to the bottom.

"First time I've done it!" I reply, shrugging and smiling.

The water trails around the rocky walls of Kakariko, and we follow its length until midday. Six walks in the shallow water sometimes, taking his shoes off and tells me to join him, and I do and it feels freeing, like the act of walking barefoot outdoors is somehow rebellious in nature. We stop for lunch, and we sit on the grass, taking bites from our sandwiches and relishing in what we like to call, "our escape".

The breeze plays with Six's hair, and I observe him; the way his mouth moves when he chews, the carefree nature in which he sits, the way the sun hits his cheekbones.. tiny glimmers of perspiration. If I still drew I would draw him now. He acts like he doesn't notice me, and I take tiny bites of my sandwich anytime he looks my way.

I swallow. "What do you think is going to happen?" I ask him, staring off.

He takes the paper that his sandwich was wrapped in, crumples it into a ball, and puts it into a plastic bag inside his backpack. "That depends," he says.

I take a sip of water from the bottle, screwing the cap back on and looking at him curiously. "On what?"

"Depends on what they have to say."

"Hmm."

"In the vision you experienced yesterday," he begins, "did Sheik tell you what he wanted from you? From us?"

I lean back on my palms, the blades of grass slightly rough, cool. "You were right when you said something bad had happened. That they were separated."

"Was I?"

"Yeah. For some reason he thinks by us doing this, by me going to the stones, that we will be able to fix it. It's a trail.. evidence leading up to whatever happened."

Six looks at me, and his expression is serious. He blinks and stares at me for a time, like time itself has paused. Finally, he says, "what if we can't?"

What if we can't..

"I.. don't know," I respond.

We both focus our attentions out now, to the field, and in silence we sit for a moment or two. I can see the ranch in the distance, the clouds above moving slowly.

"What were they like?" Six asks.

How do I answer that, I wonder. How do I put that into words? They were haunting, surreal, ghostly figures that somehow had the power to preserve chains of memories in stones? They were lovers, obsessed with each other even beyond life itself? They were sad, lonely, not yet passed from this world. Do they live in a perpetual nightmare where neither can reach the other? What magnificence did the Hero of Time have to capture Sheik's heart, beyond even death? And the same could be said of the other.. but where is he now? Is he in the darkness too? Waiting?

What a terrible fate.

"Sheik was like a beacon," I explain, "a beacon in the dark. When I placed the mask over my eyes, I was falling, and I landed before him, and he helped me up. He spoke kindly to me, but did not diminish the severity of what had happened and what he needs. He was.. one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. It was incredible, really. I still can't believe it."

"Was he sad?" Six asks.

".. Yes," I say.

He returns his gaze to the field, and for a fleeting moment I see the most forlorn expression place itself on his features. Maybe I confirmed something he didn't want to hear? Even so, I think I broke his heart, and I'm not entirely sure why.

"and Link?" he asks, looking at me.

Thump, thump goes my heart. Too fast, and I wince and take a deep breath. "He.." another deep breath, that's better, "He.."

 _Needs you,_  says the voice.

"He was courage personified. Glorious and golden. He took my breath away, really."

Six continues to watch me, and he smiles but it is not the kind of smile I'm used to. "Better than the picture?" he asks, finally.

I laugh. "A lot like the picture," I say, although that is an understatement.

"I'm glad," he says, and laughs too, breaking out of that weird state, that glossiness gone from his eyes. "It's going to be weird to go back to the forest," he continues, glancing to his left, to the trees in the distance, dense and lush. "I haven't been back, since I was very young."

"How are you feeling?" I ask. "About going back?"

Six gets up, brushing his pants off with his hands. He doesn't answer me right away, and instead says,

"I have a surprise for you once we get there," and his eyes are slightly gleaming, lips smiling again, a dimple in his left cheek that is only visible when he smiles like this.

"Surprises make me nervous!" I say. They're quite terrifying, actually. "Does it have to be a surprise? What is it?"

He lifts his brows, his expression playful. "You'll see."


	5. Meadow of a Little Self-Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude as the travelers head towards their first destination proves to be more than just a little emotional trigger.

_"There is a sacredness in tears.  
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. _   
_They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues._   
_They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love."_

~ Washington Irving

* * *

I only woke once during our first night camping out in the field.

I thought I was hearing voices again, but as I open my eyelids and the starry sky overhead greets me, I don't hear anyone speaking at all.

I hear crying.

Muffled sobs from a dreamlike state, ragged breathing. Childlike whimpers like a cold that never warms.

I reach beside me, touching the silky fabric of the sleeping bag.

"Six?" I ask, not removing my hand upon him.

It continues, the crying, and I realize then just how selfish I have been. I never noticed how sad he is. He is always smiling, patient, kind, generous. But underneath that exterior, is a loneliness - a loneliness I never paid attention to, until now.

It occurs to me that I am not the only lonely one. My loneliness is a comfort to me and it is almost a comfort to know that it is there, but for Six.. perhaps his loneliness is different than mine.

We are very different.

In my selfishness, I realize that I've never quite gotten to know him. I've let him lead me, take care of me, entertain most of the conversations we've had. But who is he really?

Who is Six?

"Six?" I ask again, my hand gently shaking his sleeping form.

He mumbles a bit, and he wakes. He takes the back of his hand and wipes his eyes quickly before rolling to face me, tired and somewhat disheveled.

"Is everything alright?" he asks. His voice is soft, his eyelids heavy.

"Were you having a bad dream?"

He looks at the night sky for a moment, blinking, thinking, his breathing now gentle and calm. He faces me again and smiles. "Remember when I told you I never get much sleep?"

I nod.

"Did I wake you?" he asks.

I shake my head.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Don't be, I was just.." I begin, the sentence unraveling on my tongue and getting lost somewhere before coming out.

Six watches me and waits. He has no readable expression and I want to tell him I worry, I really do, but I also don't want him to know, because not knowing keeps things where they are. Safe. Detached. As I search my soul it reveals to me that I do not know how to truly care for someone else. Not just caring for someone in a generic way, but deeply, caring so intensely that I could feel it take over my every waking day.. what is that like? I had a taste of it, and the fascination with it pools inside me and I want to be Link's Sheik. I want to feel what that is like.

In this moment I see the gossip stone in my mind, and I sense this rush of urgency inside my chest.

"Where do you go?" Six asks, studying me intently.

I can see the blue of his eyes even in the dark, and they are neon in a way, glowing and searching, steady.

"I.. what do you mean?" I respond.

He finds my hand that is still upon his side, and he takes it, his fingers interlacing between my own and he closes our grip. "I can't do this alone," he says and he squeezes before letting go - lingering only long enough before any longer would have meant something more.

"I have a lot on my mind," I say, a pitiful attempt at reassurance.

Six takes his left hand and places it under his head atop the pillow. He is thinking, his expression changing, his brows knit together, his mouth opening ever so often to say something that he doesn't seem to know how to. Finally, he says, "Don't get lost in the memories, the ones you see through the mask. It is a line between other worlds and those lines are not always crystal clear. They blur, makes it hard to distinguish reality from what isn't." His eyelids start to close, his speaking beginning to slow, yet he continues. "It is an ancient magic, and it comes with a price. The Sheikah were trained to separate themselves, to put their mind, their heart, their bodies, compartmentalized, so that they only utilized what was necessary. The magic they used, the suffering they went through during the war.. the root of their psyche is in shadow magic and it is painful, deadly to those who don't have the capacity to endure."

I'm confused for a moment, not really sure of how to respond. "I don't understand.. are you saying this will be harmful to me?"

He smiles a bit, shakes his head. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"I just wish you could come too."

His eyes are shut now, his lips slightly parted, breathing regular, peaceful. "I'm here," he says softly.

And he is sleeping now, and I shut my eyes too, but my thinking continues accompanied by a nagging curiosity to ask him what he meant.

* * *

Based on the old maps of Hyrule, there was an entrance to the Kokiri Forest due southwest of Kakariko, an opening through the trees that led directly to a mossy bridge.

"The Hero would have went this way," Six says, pointing to an overgrown path. He explains that back then no one would have dared to enter the forest, for the fear of becoming lost forever or turning into a monster deterred them. "Nowadays Hylians think such an idea is just a myth. There were problems years back though, travelers trying to sneak into the forest. Some tried, and never came back. It's been sealed up, this way, ever since. The only way to get near the old forest, is by going in through the town to its east."

We continue walking and I stay close to him, enjoying his excitement to share with me everything he knows. We get to a large tree, and he places a foot against it, hoisting himself up to grab a large branch. He scales the bark with ease, nimble and familiar and before I know it, he is near its top, and he speaks to me from there. The leaves frame him and his footing does not falter, and I look at him in fear because I do not think I can join him. It's been a fear of mine since I was a child - the fear of being left behind. The darkness, swallowing me whole.

"Up here," he says loud enough for me to hear, "you can see the old forest, and the town adjacent - that's where I'm from. Come," he reaches down, "take my hand and have a look."

His hand is far, and I feel scared all of a sudden. I don't want him to know how weak I am.

"I've never climbed a tree before," I admit.

"You might be surprised if you try," he says, his hand still there, his arm strong, like he would catch me no matter how far I ever fell.

I want to see what he sees, want to feel what he feels, and so I walk forward and place my hand on the rough bark, my fingers feeling its texture and wondering in my mind how I even begin to climb this thing.

"Don't think," Six says.

Taking his advice, I grab for the lowest branch, and suddenly, I'm moving up. I do not know where it came from, but it feels like a natural instinct, and before I realize it, I'm standing beside him, and he places a hand on my shoulder.

"Never climbed a tree before, huh?"

"Never," I say and a smile washes over my face as I feel the breeze through the air, my limbs heated with adrenalin. And I look out to the forest, and I see its shape, just like in the maps I used to study back at the academy. I see a little bit of the Kokiri village, the entrance to the Lost Woods, and to the left a decently sized town, filled with rustic cabins and what seems to be a large pond or lake. "What's that off to the left? Another town?"

Six's hand remains on my shoulder, firm, holding me steady if I should lose my footing. "The Kokiri live by themselves and are secluded from the outside world. However, many years ago, Hylians took up settlement nearby. You see the pond over there? That water trickles in from Lake Hylia, and turns out there was a lot of great fish to catch. They made a living that way, still do."

"How are we going to get into the Lost Woods then?" I ask.

"I'll show you," he says, and he starts his climb down the tree, and I follow him, landing on the ground shortly after.

Near the entrance to the town, Six stops briefly and pulls his hoodie over his head, the green fabric covering his hair and he messes with the bangs there, ruffling the strands until they lay this way and that over the front of his face. His mood swiftly changes, and he looks as if he may be having second thoughts.

He doesn't want to be noticed?

"Are you..?" I ask.

"Let's go," he says, cutting me off, taking my hand again and pulling me with him through a large wooden gateway. I suspect at any moment we will stop to rest, to explore the town, but we don't. Six's head is down as he continues leading me at this brisk pace, and we are like ghosts traversing, not staying long enough in one place to be noticed. He doesn't want to stay.

Suddenly, that golden silhouette is around him again, and I am being led not just by Six now, but by the Hero of Time. Around me materializes a forest of green, and we are running. Fast. My peripheral is not clear, just static lines of motion, and I feel time rushing forward and back - a loss of all sense of what's around me and where I am. Are we being chased? I am dodging fallen branches in an attempt to keep up, and I trip and fall into him - the world tipping over and I am in his arms, the white of his undershirt wrapped around the strongest of arms, and I feel them as my hands tighten, not wanting to fall and be left behind.

"Not much farther," Link says, his hand beneath my chin, tilting my head up, our eyes meeting.

My heart palpitates, and even though his face is not clear, I see him well enough - a shade materialized. As I lean closer to him, my head buried in the firmness of his chest, time slows around me again. The world ceases to travel quicker than I, stopping from playing in fast-forward, yet I remain, paused.

As I look around me and real life settles back in, I see villagers stilled, watching. Shovels in hand and fishing rods paused, voices whispering.

The chest before me moves, breaths hitching. I look up slowly to see Six, his face a mixture of concern and intrigue. His arms are around me. He says nothing.

I realize I am half leaning into him, halted from my illusory run. I must have fallen into him.

"I'm sorry Six," I say, out of breath. "I didn't mean to.."

"Are you okay?" he asks, interrupting. He is worried now, his fingers brushing against the back of my arms as he holds me still. He looks around him, and I notice panic briefly washing itself over his features.

"You don't want them to see you.." I say, locking his gaze with my own. "Why?" I ask.

He leans closer, his lips near my left ear. "I thought I would have liked to revisit.. but all I feel is sadness here.. the past.. those who aren't here anymore. I changed my mind. I don't want to.."

As he speaks to me secretly, I peer to my right, and beside us is a beautiful glistening stream. The water flows seemingly without end, its ripples like white ribbons over the surface. He doesn't continue talking. He doesn't need to.

I lean forward, and relax my body into Six's, a spontaneous hug that feels like the world again has tilted itself so that I would fall with it. I can feel him gasp slightly, his body timid from the contact. The butterflies I see fluttering behind him as I rest my head on his shoulder mimic the ones inside my stomach; swirling and dancing in a chaotic way to stay in the air, to stay standing. To keep from falling.

Falling, falling.

"Time passes.. people move.." I whisper to him.

I feel him shudder. Was it something I said? He brings his arms up now, and places them around me and finally returns the hug. It is hesitant and a bit guarded, like he is not giving himself fully. And that is alright..

because neither am I. I'm not sure if I know how to.

"Not much farther," Six says to me then, and he lets his arms free from around me, his hands brushing the length of mine, down, down. And in a sweeping way he turns and before walking he looks back at me and says, "My grandma told me never to come back here. She always told me to keep moving forward." He turns forward again and begins to walk, and as he does I can hear him say, "We're dabbling in enough of the past as it is."

* * *

"Everyone stay together now!" The female voice chided loud enough for the group to hear.

"Is this really necessary?" I ask Six, turning to him briefly, giving him an annoyed look.

He laughs softly. "This is one of those crimes against history - not much is sacred anymore, unfortunately."

The Lost Woods tour, happening only once a day, allows anyone to explore its mazes - with a catch: you have to do so in a group and be led by an officiated tour guide. Wooden fences have been placed around the entrance perimeter to ensure participants won't stray into Kokiri Forest, and the golden rule - no exploring alone.

If I return to the academy,  _when_  I return to the academy I mean, I am going to write an essay on how horrific this is to Hyrule, its history, culture, the Kokiri.. I just.. I can't even begin to fathom who thought this was a good idea.

"How are we going to get to the Sacred Forest Meadow?" I whisper to Six with urgency. We seem to be in the entrance to the woods, with pathways leading right, left, and forward. It's dark beyond them, fireflies being the only thing visible dancing around in the inbetween.

He nudges me with his elbow, tells me to keep quiet. He flashes me a mischievous grin.

We wait, and as the group heads on we fall into the back of the line, and we linger a bit before following.

"Can you hear that?" Six asks.

I look at him confused for a moment, listening for something and I'm not sure what he means. "Hear what?"

"Shh," he says, and we stop, our heads tilted up to the canopy of the trees.

I hear insects buzzing, the rustling of leaves and grass, the snapping of branches in the distance.

I feel a bit of heaviness in my chest, a slight dizziness. As my vision sways just enough to be noticeable, I hear it.

A song.

"Long ago, Skull Kids would play this melody throughout the woods, so that the Kokiri could follow its path and navigate it without fear of getting lost. Only the Kokiri can hear it. That's why anyone else would get lost and never return - they could never hear the song - only the silence and the echoes of wind throughout the pathways."

The song is clearer now, and it comes and goes, almost like it's winding throughout the twists and turns of the forest maze. "Only the Kokiri can hear it.. why can we hear it, then?"

"There was a time when the Hero and his guide traversed these woods. They made it safely, did they not?" Six replies, glancing at me expressionless, his eyelids blinking as he watches me.

"Keep up you two!" the guide bellows, and we snap out of our thoughtful reverie, but as we walk slowly behind I continue pondering who we really are and if we are in over our heads.

We make our way through the right pathway, I duck below some vines that have grown in disarray up and across the tunnel. The scent in this place is vivid, familiar - like a favorite flower or the memory of a perfume, but not as sweet. It's earthy, the grass is strong here and fresh, the wildflowers around the edges of the wood are bitter, citrus. The earth beneath my feet groans with each step I take, as if other people being here isn't sacred, unwanted. Unwarranted.

Six meanders off to the distance, a lower portion of the maze fenced off to prohibit access. He leans against the fence, peeking over, and then he rests, unmoving. The group trails off to the left but I stop, watching him from the distance. His head is slightly back, eyes closed. I give him a moment and begin toward him, and as I do he says, "There used to be a ladder here," and he points to his left and down where nothing is there any longer.

"You've been here before?" I ask.

"Mmhmm," he says.

"When you lived nearby?"

He looks at me, a sideways glance and slightly crooked smile, his dark lashes fluttering against blue irises. It is somewhat condescending, like he is laughing internally, and it is also sexy.. like a secret wrapped in the finest chocolate. Raspberry filling contained in a shell of mystery.

It catches me off guard.

He takes my hand and we catch up to the group heading through the northern passageway. We make a few more turns after that, and Six and I fall into a short silence as we listen to the guide share facts about the area. A bit further on the song in the air that I thought to be ambient starts to fade, and I stop and tug on Six's sleeve.

"This is where we part from the group," he whispers, and as the rest of the party veers left and through the darkened tunnel, he takes a hold of my hand again and we run forward through the one ahead of us.

The melody is louder again, and we are walking briskly now - turning forward, left, forward - he slows as we go through what must be the final passage, and ahead of me, another large maze and beyond that even, a divide filtered by a subtle haze.

It is old here.. I can feel it around me. It's different than the other parts, like we're cutting through the air that had settled dormant since the Hero of Time.

And we talk as he leads us through the second maze, a map we had drawn out ourselves back at his home in Kakariko to help us through. We walk slowly, treading softly through the pale grass and parts submerged in shallow water. Here is his natural habitat, I've decided, as I see him almost lackadaisically wander around its corners, and every so often as he checks behind him to make sure I'm still there, I feel a part of something larger. Much larger than he or I. I wonder if he knows that?

We follow a long path next, with walls so high I can hardly see the top. The misty air permeates here, hanging low and creeping underneath our feet. It is like ascending into some sort of heavenly place.

Are the Sages watching us? I feel like something is.

"Link and Sheik stood in this very place," Six says as we reach the glade. We stand just before it, a little bit tired and in awe - the Forest Temple above, and all around us.. it is another place, in another time. It is quiet, the air very still. We can hear each other breathing, our footsteps crunching on the untouched grass. But there is a light here, one which reacted as soon as we entered. It's like the meadow came alive.

_Wh o.. S heik.. ar e.. dyin g.. yo u ston es.. don't l eave me.._

_f ind a way.. can yo u he ar... m e_

I hear the voices swirling around in my head, a conversation skewed, lost in some other world.

"I hear them," I say and I sit, my eyes burning, my heart thumping.

Six sits in front of me, we are close, knees touching. "Saria, the Sage of the Forest was said to communicate with spirits here," he says, "there were only a few who have ever come here. The only thing that lives here now, are things that have passed on and aren't with us anymore."

"They sound afraid," I say.

Six takes off his backpack, and sets it on the ground beside him. He unzips it, and begins looking through it. "I have something.."

After a moment he pulls out an object rather large, about the width of the pack he was carrying, wrapped in a soft towel. It's not the mask, but something else.

"Here," he says, "this is for you."

He sets it on the grass between us, and I'm hesitant. He has an eagerness about his expression now, a vague longing.

I unwrap the towel, and in it, an object gold, slightly tarnished.

A lyre.

"Are you serious?" I ask, disbelief even as I touch the instrument with my fingertips. The tarnish from age reveals fingerprints across its now brassy surface, the oil having left a lasting impression on its sides from its previous user.

"It was at Impa's, in a cedar chest near the back. It was one of the first things I found." He touches the instrument and slides it even closer to me. "I can't think of anyone Sheik would rather give this to. I.. can't think of anyone more deserving than you." Fleeting nervousness breaks his composure slightly, but he says, "please take it."

I lift it from the towel, hold it in my hands. As I pluck one string, the note vibrates and echoes through the noiseless air.

"Are you a good listener?" Six asks, smiling before returning to his backpack. "I don't have an ocarina.." he starts, finally pulling something else from the pack, "but I do have a pan flute." He brings it to his lips and plays a few notes. "Play with me?" he asks. An adorable, sheepish smile this time.

"I didn't know you could play," I say. I give him a teasing smile back.

"I can't really," he says, "but I have practiced some of the songs they used to play together. I thought it would be nice.. if we could play them here together, too."

"For old time's sake?"

Six lifts his brows, eyes opening a little bit wider. He chuckles gently and says, "sure, for old time's sake."

He brings the pan flute to his lips again - I watch them purse delicately, soft. He moistens them with his tongue. "The Minuet?" he asks, his eyes looking up at me from the instrument.

"Seems fitting," I say.

"I thought so."

I've never in my life experienced something as magical as what is happening now. The notes waver out delicately, and I listen intently as he plays for the forest. I can't really say for sure, but the hues are brighter around me, like the music is re-energizing the meadow with life and in turn it invigorates me.

Six notes.

He looks at me, the pan flute still poised, and he waits.

He always waits.

I pluck a few strings gently, trying to find the right note. Ah, there it is.

Six more notes.

As I finish the last, my hand wavers. I'm not brave enough to look at him now. I'm not sure what I will see.I bring my left hand to my lips, speechless as something in the air changes.

He plays again. Six notes.

"You see that?" he asks, forcing me to look at him. And there it is again, that golden silhouette, but this time, he sees it too.

"I've been seeing that off and on since Kakariko," I say. "It usually follows with me losing my mind for a brief while after."

"No," he says, "it's around you."

"Do you see me?"

"Yes."

"Do you see Sheik?"

"It looks like you are fading away.."

"How about now?" I ask him, and I play the final six notes on the lyre.

He stands, stricken with astonishment.

"H-how.."

I stand too, and near him. He reaches out to me, his fingers ghosting across my shoulder, my face. And I do the same, I touch the golden silhouette, and it's like vapor. A reflection of someone else. To me, I see Link. It is sensual, these feather light touches. The exploration.

"What do you see?" I ask him again.

His face switches dramatically, water pools in his eyes. All composure lost and I see pain flicker across his features. The pain.. the temporary relief.

He doesn't say anything, but he continues touching me - I can see the glowing light cast itself across his face, and he looks at me in a way I've never been looked at before. And we stand only an inch apart, weaving our fingers over spectral limbs, exploring this rift in dimensions itself, and we are this way for a long while, until the silhouettes fade and the illusion is gone.


	6. Whispers of a Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes what you're looking for is already here.

As the radiant auras fade, the glow extinguished as quickly as a candle blown out, we back away from each other - startled, confused, reminiscent, terrified.

The proximity which we shared was only due to who we perceived to be there, and there is a hurt in the heart when what once felt so real was just an illusion..

There is hurt in the heart when disinterest casts its black-tipped sword; a stab in the chest, twisted and removed.

I wither, retreat. Curling back into the shell of my reality - no longer confident in who I am. Or was.

Six's hand remains in the space where I was once, retreating too but reaching persistent. But if Sheik is gone why does he still reach for me?

A little bit awkward now, somewhat sheepish, we stand wondering what to do with ourselves. How to explain the yearning in our hearts for people we never knew in this lifetime, how to feel that we will never be loved for who we are, but what we saw ourselves change into. These thoughts tug at me and I wonder if he is thinking this too, and Six appears ashamed as he stops reaching for me, realizing I am not reaching back.

He sighs. The melancholic expression on his face lasting only long enough to be wiped away with a slight smile, one he has become so good at - a mask of happiness, and I wonder now when the smile is genuine and when it is not. Other moments that I have hurt him - I feel like a monster now but I don't know what to do about it. How to make it right.

"I'm sorry.." I say, "I was lost for a moment."

Six is like a statue, eyes only blinking, and aside from the breaths I can see rise and fall from his chest, he is still. "Don't be," he says. "I.. shouldn't have invaded your personal space like that. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

No, no, no.. it isn't that at all.

"Why did you still reach for me, even though Sheik was gone?" What do I want, some sort of validation? I do not know why I ask him this, but it came out, and out of all the things I could have said to make the situation better I asked the one thing that could make things even worse.

"Because I still see him," he says.

And he is serious, but then breaks out in a chuckle and ruffles my hair with his hand.

"Very funny," I say.

"If you say so," he replies, and his hand is gentle now atop my head, and the electric tingles I feel travel across my scalp and down my neck. They linger there even after he lets go, they linger there even as we lay in the darkness of the meadow. They linger even as I shut my eyes to sleep, and I wonder if they will still be felt tomorrow.

* * *

The hum that vibrates through the interior of the Forest Temple are like voices trapped from long ago. It is dark and musty, overgrown foliage seemingly the primary inhabitant looking for spaces to grow even on the walls and ceiling.

The ornate door before him creaks open on its own, the hinges squeaking, interrupting the silence.

There are no windows in the next room, but somehow the heavy air is visible - a thickness to it, stale and ominpresent. It is a bit terrifying in here, and Six whimpers slightly almost as if he is chilled by winter air.

He struggles to see, feeling around for the large steps in front of him as he descends into the main chamber. He senses hands, bodies brushing past him but no one is there. It is suffocating and empty at the same time, his footsteps a loud tap, tapping on the dusty floors.

Fear rises in his chest as he struggles to speak, for Six is not the bravest even though he may seem to be.

"I'm alone," he says, just above a whisper.

 _"I know,"_ she answers.

"I.. I haven't had a lot of time to myself to talk to you," he begins, "but I hear you, all the time."

 _"I know,"_ she says,  _"but does he?"_

"No, even though you can be distracting I don't think he's noticed. He hears things too. He is going through a lot."

_"You both are."_

"This place is terrible," Six says as he glances around, his eyes finally adjusting to the dark.

 _"That is a rude thing to say.."_ she replies, and if he could see her, he'd imagine she would be folding her arms with a disgruntled expression.  _"Saria would be offended."_

"Well tell her to clean it up a bit and get some light in here."

_"You are the same as ever."_

"Am I?" he asks, "because we aren't the same people we once were, Zelda, and I'm starting to worry if he can handle all this. If I can handle this."

_"He is just a little more lost than you are."_

"But will he make it back? The further we go.. the deeper we get.. there's a fine line between reality and losing yourself somewhere you just can't be anymore."

_"You sound very different from the first time you discovered the past and spoke to me. You called upon me and we connected, and you were braver then. What has happened that has left you so discouraged?"_

Six is quiet for a moment.

_"Are you worried that the one who accompanies you now does not share the same sentiments for you as he did for your other self?"_

"That is not the point of this.."

_"Then what is?"_

"I'm not that person. He's gone," he says softly.

_"Are you sure?"_

And right after she speaks, the four lanterns in the chamber that were void of life burst with flames atop them, and color washes over the walls as light that had been gone for so long welcomes itself into the room.

Six gasps and shields his eyes as the light penetrates his vision, so very bright after spending some time in the dark. His heart beats, a deep pounding, and he is fearful - and for good reason as a distant sound of something rattling, clanging, begins to his far left.

He is frozen still, peering out to see the cause of the noise but in no hurry to near it. And the noise itself begins to manifest - bones materializing, reattaching. Shield and sword, a skeleton face.

Six knows what it is, a Stalfos. A monster that shouldn't be around anymore. He backs up slowly, treading ever so lightly, but the Stalfos already knows that he is there. Its hollow eyes look at him, a snarl from beneath its toothy smirk. Six rubs his eyes to make sure he isn't hallucinating, and when he finds the creature persists he continues to back up, until there is nothing but a wall behind him.

"Shit."

He fumbles in his pant pockets while frequently looking in front of him to see how far the giant skeleton has come. He finally finds it - a dagger he keeps with him in case of danger - and he pulls it out, the blade wavering as his shaky grasp points it forward.

It is no match for the Stalfos' blade, the wimpy piece of metal better suited to severing large ropes or slicing a fish.

The creature nears him, and Six has no idea what to do. How can such a small blade break a skeleton in half? He jabs it forward, scraping across bone and into the nothingness between them, and the Stalfos raises its shield and swings hard, smashing into Six's hand and knocking the dagger far out of reach. He yelps at the sudden pain and stricken with panic looks to see the little knife land across the room. He curses and his eyes widen, a moment of terror, and he yells as the skeleton descends upon him, ready for a strike that surely would be a killing blow.

He winces and shuts his eyes, bringing his hands above his head as if they could prevent a sharpened blade from cutting through him. And he waits for it..

but it never comes.

 _"Find your courage,"_  she says as the Stalfos pauses mid-strike, petrified by her magic. He hears what sounds like disappointment in her voice, and as the creature dissipates back to whence it came, he can't help but feel disappointed in himself, too.

* * *

The smell of instant coffee and the rays of morning light wake me, and I roll over to see Six seated beside me, pouring water from a camping kettle into a mug.

"Hey," he says quietly and hands it to me, and I get up into a sitting position slowly before accepting it.

"Morning," I say and I watch the steam rise and swirl from the cup, and I look to him. He seems oddly quiet, like millions of thoughts are running through his head. He stares into his coffee - he appears to be tired. "More nightmares?" I ask.

He glances at me, dark circles under his eyes beginning to show. "Something like that," he says.

And for some reason, I feel this swell of empathy, and I begin to babble.

"I've looked forward to every day with you, Six," I say. "It's been a long time since I've felt that way. I don't know what we're doing and if it is going to matter, but I'm glad I met you." I don't look at him as I say this, my eyes darting back and forth across the blades of grass against my legs. I pluck a particularly susceptible blade for no reason at all, and twirl it around between my thumb and index finger.

My face feels hot and Six is quiet for a moment, thinking.

"I've never had many friends," Six begins, "after my grandma passed away, I shut myself away from everyone, everything. I volunteered on the horseback trails, worked jobs on and off, said hi to my neighbors, but I was just doing what people expect someone normal to do. Keeping up appearances, as they say?" He sighs. "It was a pretty dark time for me initially when I first got into Impa's place. I absorbed myself with its contents, and the result really brought me down. But I couldn't stop, couldn't stop myself from looking. I didn't understand why it affected me so emotionally, but it felt like somewhere between depression and elation."

I listen to him intently, giving him all the time in the world to talk. What time is left, anyway.

"I didn't have anyone to talk about it with," he continues, "and when you came along and I was able to truly share it with someone, well.." he smiles bashfully, "it really made a difference in my life. So, thanks. Thanks for saying that and for coming along."

Is this what happiness feels like? Is this what it feels like to be important to someone? It's a foreign sensation. I feel warm all over, and I'm not sure if I want to stay where I am, hug him, or kiss him. I'm getting all these mixed signals, warning beeps and flashes emitting throughout my body. How do you treat someone who says they care? A relatively average individual would just say thank you back and that would be that, but I sit there, comatose, like a robot that's run out of juice.

"Want more coffee?" Six asks, leaning forward, kettle in hand.

I break out of my trance, and nod awkwardly. "Thank you," I say.

"For the coffee?" he asks as he pours the powder and water into my cup.

"No," I say, "for everything."

* * *

The Gossip Stone was right there the whole time, looming behind us as we ate breakfast and conversed. Finally when we gave in to its presence, I could feel a sigh of relief from the spirits in his place.

I think Sheik had gotten tired of waiting.

"Come back," Six had said before handing me the mask.

"I will," I said and studied the back of the porcelain, its surface growing nearer and nearer as I brought it closer to my face.

I can't explain its power, but as soon as it is against my skin I can feel it latching on to me.

And when the familiar darkness pervades my senses, I hear a voice.

 _"Finally,"_  it says.

The only way I can tell I'm moving is from the rushing of light in my vision. It is like I'm traveling but going nowhere at all. Bits and pieces of imagery start to form together like a puzzle, until I can see a room before me - a fireplace, a wooden interior - a simple bed, unmade, and it's dark outside, I can tell from the amount of light in the room.

The body I am in is sitting on the floor. There is a patterned rug, and strewn across it, wrapping and bandages nearby. I look at my hands, and they are Sheik's again, but naked. I glance up my shoulder and down my torso. I am shirtless, only in the pants of the bodysuit.

Something is wrong, however.

The forearms, they are blackened. Not by disease or infection, but by an inky oil that swirls around the skin in pixelated bits. Munching on the surface.

I am only a voyeur to what happens next, as I seem to be unable to make the body I am in speak.

Link is here, I can see him. He rushes in through a doorway behind me. The way I sit suggests a sadness of sorts - I am hunching over, shoulder slumped. Waiting.

"Sheik," he says in that crisp tone of his. Slightly husky, not very low in timbre but not high either. Even though he sounds panicked, it is a sweet sound. His voice dances in my eardrums picking just the right notes.

"I am here," Sheik says. He is tired and speaks slowly, his voice lyrical but calculating.

Link approaches and kneels beside me, taking my hands in his own. He studies my forearms and brushes his thumbs against my palms, rubbing softly.

"It is no worse than before you left," Sheik says, letting the other examine him, although I can feel it annoying him slightly. Not that he is not enjoying the hero's touches or care, but that he is seemingly unable to do anything about his condition.

Link is beautiful in his distress. He breathes heavily, must have been out looking for something. The firelight flickers across his face, and his irises shine with a light, a light from somewhere beyond.

He is scared, and the craziest thing about that, is that he shouldn't be. He has the Triforce of Courage, after all.

Sheik takes Link's hands, squeezing them gently in his own. Pulsating, like every soft press is telepathically telling the hero to calm, and that he is loved, without saying a word. "It has been almost two months," the Sheikah continues, "If she could help, she would. The silence is an answer in itself."

"The ocarina is the only way to return to a time before this happened. It is the only way to reverse what the twilight has done to you."

My hands are on his shoulders now, feather light. Then on his cheek, a finger brushing softly against the hero's skin. Tentative touches, like Sheik is still unaccustomed to physical contact, but also as if he is afraid to latch on to a life he might have to leave.

"I was given the gift of the twilight for you, Link. When you left your stasis and awoke in another time, you had to be helped or you would never have returned to your own. The goddesses offered me this gift in exchange for something great, but I never once considered the brevity of it because reuniting with you came first. When we fought against Zant and his minions near the Gate of Time, the twilight found me. It chose me then but I struggled free, yet it seems as if it still wants me."

Link shudders, a slight tremble. "I never chose to be a hero, Sheik, but I choose to be with you and I will be damned if the goddesses deny me of any free will." He touches my lips. "You are all that I have left."

And it is just him and I, in this small room, in this world.

Nothing else seems to matter.

When you've fought for Hyrule and all of its occupants that were in peril are filled with peace again, reunited with families or loved ones, returning to the lives they once lived.. where does a lone Sheikah and a hero belong in a time of peace? What is their purpose? And when these two are groomed for nothing other than saving the world, what happens after that? Where do they go?

"To a distant place," Link says, a hushed whisper. "If we leave, sever the bonds of this place, then perhaps we can sever the twilight as well."

And Sheik takes a picture with his mind, a moment in time. For every day forward is another step closer to the shackles of the Twilight Realm, or to freedom.

The memory ends here, but I stay in the fading recollection, wanting to exist here more than anything. I feel the pull, the magnetic grip of reality, and for some reason I think that if I stay here suspended in this alternate dimension that I can stop them from dying.

But I can't. They're already dead.

And I return to Six and fall into his arms with exhaustion, and he doesn't ask anything at all.

He simply holds me close, and that is the most affection I've ever known.

* * *

"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...  
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,  
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,  
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,  
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.  
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,  
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.  
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.  
At the heart of time, love of one for another.  
We have played along side millions of lovers,  
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,  
the distressful tears of farewell,  
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you  
The love of all man's days both past and forever:  
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.  
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -  
And the songs of every poet past and forever."

― Rabindranath Tagore, Selected Poems


	7. Not Quite a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little needed introspection.

"And so you haunt me.  
Always with me, you are the invisible diner at our table, the constant presence that trails me as I go about my daily routine...  
In the darkness of a closed-lidded world, you are alive and vital, unchanging, mine.  
You are the ghost of everything that once was lovely...  
a shadow casts its majesty over everything that remains."

~Samantha Bruce-Benjamin,  _The Art of Devotion_

* * *

_This chapter is dedicated to my readers. Thank you for putting up with me._

* * *

"Anyone can use a little love, young one. Even those who have passed on," she said, crouched down over the fresh earth.

He waited with the tiny seeds in his hand, waited for his grandma to dig the little hole, and then she'd tell him 'go ahead,' and he'd drop them inside - insignificant granules that would soon spring to life. Insignificant, then something more. Something beautiful.

Every morning it was like this; he'd walk a few beats ahead, his grandmother slower behind him, and they would end up past the wooden gates to tend the Kakariko Graveyard. Even though she didn't need to and it was a job not given to her, she took it on because no one else did. And every spring, those who passed on would have life sprung from them once again, in the form of yellow daffodils that peppered the landscape like fireflies.

"Be mindful of the princess," she said as he stepped too close to one of the headstones, and he jumped back, startled.

"Apologies, your highness," he said solemnly to the ground.

His grandma chuckled. "Doesn't matter how high up you once were. We all end up down here sooner or later."

And the little boy stared at the soil, knelt down to touch it. He waited with his palm pressed flat against the grass that had begun to grow there, and listened.

Only a breeze whispered through the air, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Spring smelled sweet, and he stayed there for a long while with a slight smile upon his face.

"How did she die?" he asked.

"Oh I don't rightly know. They were both lonely, these two," she said, pointing between the princess' grave and to another beside a large tree.

"The one I'm named after?" he asked.

"That's the one," she said. "Go ahead," she motioned toward him, "dig a little around his headstone and put these in the hole, will you?" She handed him a couple of seeds. They fell into his palms, and he looked at them.

"What are they?" he asked.

"Glory Lilies," she said, "because a hero like that deserves to be honored."

He found a good spot and began digging with his hands, the soil soft and malleable.

"Hi Link," he said, "these are gonna look real nice when they grow." He dropped the seeds down, and covered the hole, patting gently. "I'm sorry you're lonely," he whispered, "can I do anything to help?" He waited again, closed his eyes, his palm again pressed atop the mound of earth.

"Let's go, young one. It'll start to rain again soon and we best get back home." She held out her hand and he stood and took it, peering oddly back at the hero's grave as they walked away.

* * *

 

"Don't go in there!" she yelled from their house one day, to her young grandson across the way.

He was peering inside a window at the old creepy house, standing on his tip-toes and rubbing the dirty glass with his sleeve.

"I wanna see what's inside!" he yelled back, squinting to make out whatever resided in the darkened interior.

His grandma continued to rake the leaves in front of their house, but said, "There's nothing in there anymore!" She shook her head and mumbled to herself, something about curiosity and the little boy having too much of it.

"But there are voices!" he yelled to her and resumed his search through the window, lowering his voice he said to himself, "I can hear you." He strained to see anything at all, but he was certain there were people inside.

Like the people at the graveyard, too.

* * *

That night was the first time he saw it, the figure standing near the window in his bedroom.

It was shadowed and hooded, red eyes that glowed from darkness.

It was terrifying and he yelped, covered himself in his blankets. All he could hear was his breathing, and he tried to hold his breath so he could be perfectly quiet. There was a heaviness in his chest and he wanted to look, to see if it had gone, but he couldn't bring himself to remove the covers.

It returned almost every night after that.

When he would finally sleep, his dreams were plagued with memories of his even younger self, and memories that he had never experienced at all. His mind would reenact the village he was born in, just next to the Kokiri Forest, and the awful people who lived there.

He remembered being banished from the town, the townsfolk who had uttered accusations at himself and his grandma. "Cursed Hero", they snarled. "Wretched Hylian Lineage", they said. The tiny blonde boy named Link had no idea why they all hated him.

His grandma would tell him, "they're afraid of you."

And he'd ask, "why?"

She'd cradled him in her long, rough cloak, and said, "with heroes comes disaster. Without trouble, there's no need for someone to fix it, and these folks don't like trouble."

"I'm a hero?" he asked.

"You never know," she said.

He would also dream of the Kokiri Forest, of a little tree house with a little bed inside. Lots of children lived there who never seemed to grow, and he made a friend in his dreams, a girl named Saria.

He spoke to her when he slept, and he spoke to her even while he was awake.

The villagers of Kakariko chuckled at the young boy with the imaginary friend.

One afternoon, when he was just about 15, Saria opened the door to the creepy old house. She turned the locked knob with ease and giggled, whispered to him, "Come here."

"I'm not supposed to go in there," he said, remembering the warnings his grandma had spoke of.

"It is important, you'll see," Saria said, and she disappeared inside.

He found an image of a beautiful man, with sun lightened locks and the eyes of a jewel. "I know this guy," he said to her,

and back she responded, "How?"

"He's visited me almost every night since I was younger."

Saria took the picture in her hands, and smiled to herself. "You should try talking to him, then," she said and added, "his name is Sheik."

"You know him?" he asked, baffled.

"Of course I do!" She thought for a moment, a finger to her lips, and continued with, "he's very lonely and hasn't yet found a place to rest. I'm sure he would appreciate someone noticing him. Especially you."

So that night he waited in bed, nervous energy pooling in his stomach. His eyes flickered to every corner of the room, waiting for the shadow to appear.

When it finally did he tried to quench his fear, and he spoke aloud to the figure near the window.

"S-Sheik?" he whispered.

And a strange noise, a hum, a rip in the universe. He lay petrified, scared out of his mind.

The shadow said nothing but its red eyes continued to glow, and it began to move forward, closer, closer still.

As it neared he smelled something familiar. It started with a faint burning smell, but then turned to amber - a honeyed mixture of incense and maple syrup. Sweet. Gentle.

And when the shadow placed a wispy hand on his forehead,

all felt right with the world.

* * *

The ghosts he became accustomed to, and he actually looked forward to spending time with them.

His grandma would watch him with one eye squinted, shake her head at the poor timing that her little one had been brought into this world.

She had thrust a sword into his hands at sixteen, the weight of the metal pulling his arms down to the earth until its tip stabbed the grass.

"It's so heavy," he gasped, slightly bent over and awkward with a blade almost as big as he was.

"And rightly so," she said, hands at her hips. "Work on that wooden post over there until you've cut clean through it." She motioned to the beginnings of a porch, what it belonged to seemingly abandoned for a time.

"It's hard to lift," he started, wincing at the weight.

"Such is the weight of this world," she had said.

And it wasn't until dawn that he laid atop the grass and let sleep take him, the beam speckled with grooves here and there, cuts from the blade inconsistent. Saria sat beside him and gently petted his dampened hair, her soft humming like a residual lullaby that could not say goodbye to this world.

He worked on that post for almost two days, and when the final splinter was cut and the beam toppled over he internally congratulated himself although his slight disappointment lingered.

He wanted to be strong, wanted to wield the sword like it was part of his arm, part of his being. And even though he grew to be better at it, his skill still did not resemble what he knew he could do, and he couldn't help but to think he was trying to be someone he was not.

It had been a long time since he had visited the graveyard, but he did so again on that day. And beside the glory lilies he sat and pondered, talked to the princess and the hero and the others around them.

When his grandma came by like she usually did, she tended to the grounds but inside wondered how she would even begin to tell him that he needed to stop. That he needed to grow up, face his future. The fact that she had passed on seven years ago and he had continued to keep talking to her as if she were alive troubled her. So that visit was the last.

"Say goodbye, my grandson," she had said, "say goodbye to me and everyone else you hold onto that is no longer here. I cannot continue on and neither can they if you persist to cling so tightly."

He did not look to her. "Why must I do that?" he asked.

"There are many reasons why, but if I had to put it plainly I'd say people are going to think you're crazy, and I don't want you to live the rest of your life alone, with the dead. Normal folks just don't get this sort of thing."

"What if I said I didn't care?"

There was silence for a long while after that, until he heard a soft "I love you. Always." and that was goodbye. For real.

* * *

It had made him angry. The reality of his situation begun to set in - that he had been alone for a long time, going through the motions, interacting with hardly anyone - so he had said a loud, "fuck you" to all the spirits he knew and heard who knew and heard him too and then he just shut them out. Stopped listening.

But not all listened to him, and that night his red-eyed visitor appeared as usual near the window beside his bed in the darkened room. He turned to his side and pulled the covers higher around him, closed his eyes tight and tried his best to ignore it, but he felt the bed dip slightly anyway, the shadowy form making physical contact with this world. Something which took a great deal of energy to do.

And for the first time it spoke to him, a voice that sparked his nerves.

"So this is goodbye?" it asked.

He didn't answer.

"I will be here when you change your mind." it said after a moment.

And as he tried to open his mouth to tell Sheik to fuck off too, something strange enveloped him. It entered his mouth, wrapped itself around his body, covered him in its shadowy wisps like a cocoon.

That, that was an occasion he would never speak of to anyone. It had been affection from beyond. There was no way he could put into words what he experienced, just that he had felt the warmth from ages ago. It had lit up his heart, ignited it. It was sensorial, physical. It was strange, illogical. Yet the most perplexing thing of all, was that he stupidly, irrationally fell in love with it. 'It' being many things - the person the shadow once was, the experience, the memories - and it stayed with him from that point on. And even though he spoke to none of them again, including Sheik, that feeling lingered for five years. For five years he pretended to be normal, and the town he lived in for most of his life finally got to know who he was.

He was cheerful and helpful. People discovered they liked to be around him. He applied to work on the tourist trails, found out he had a natural talent with horses, and spent almost every day telling those who followed him up and down the mountain the stories of old Hyrule with an addictive enthusiasm.

And even though he had moved on from those 'other things', he still reveled in their history, and he became quite proficient in it, reading, researching, tying all the little bits together and rejoicing that even though he had an odd gift, that these people were in fact real. Very real. Had been real, anyway.

It was really not that long ago that he had been walking home when he saw the door of the old house slightly open. It had been a nondescript night after a long day at work, the fall air slightly crisp, the crunch of the golden leaves underneath his feet. It was odd, for it had been locked since, gosh, the last time he had visited with Saria, years ago?

It called out to him.

He couldn't very well leave it open. But he also didn't want to go near it.

Even stranger was that the door had several locks, his grandma being the only one who had a key.

So he had went home quickly, retrieved the keys from the place they had always been, and returned to the old house to lock it up again, but the smell inside halted him as he stood near the crack in the doorway. A honeyed mixture of incense and maple syrup. Sweet. Gentle.

"Damn it," he whispered.

And it tempted him inside.

Inside was just how he remembered it. Dusty, creepy, cobwebs everywhere. Stuff upon stuff all over the place. A hurried exit, it looked like, with nowhere near enough time to care about what was being left behind. His grandma had always been protective of this place. Kept it hidden, kept it the same. Everyone had thought it belonged to her - an unusual old woman with too many things who needed more space to hoard it all in.

But now, being older, wiser, he realized that it was not. And not being confused by or swayed by the voices in his ears like the previous visit here, he investigated from a new persepective, and the past unfolded before his very eyes.

The spirits had begun to make sense. All these people around him, they were all connected. He traced them back to a specific time, a particular stamp in Hyrule's history where they all had played a part of a considerably significant event. As a child he knew there were dead people in the graveyard, and that some of them were royalty. Some of them not. One of them a hero. But he never thought about it much more than that. His spirits, these spirits, weren't lingering randomly from whenever, no. They were from a precise age, a precise lifetime - like a rip in the universe, a rip in dimensions and time itself.

The house had had three key visitors. Impa, whom he discovered was the proper owner of the house, a Sheikah woman and sage who had spent her days protecting the Princess. Then the Hero of Time, Link, whom he was named after, and another Sheikah - a male named Sheik. Everything inside seemed to be theirs, whether it be the multitude of books and relics belonging to Impa, to the array of weapons stored by the hero and evidence of his and Sheik's short time spent there.

This web of a story had begun to unfold. A love affair. How Hyrule tried to extinguish it from existence. Disease. Escape. Failure. Promises. Expectations. Disappointment. Every evening he'd carry over a broom and a dust pan, some garbage bags, tried to make it seem like he was cleaning the place up. In reality he was reading. Everything. And for some reason he felt like he was meant to.

"Why, Zelda?" he had whispered one night, baffled by what he had been reading. The candlelight beside him had flickered, and in that dusty old forgotten home he heard her voice again, and she said,

"I will tell you everything I know."

He let her back in. Only her. And she respected his wishes and only spoke once he had initiated.

She told him she was sorry.

It had been an overwhelming amount of information. He had left her with a quick 'goodnight' and returned home with a slight headache and a dizziness that was all too familiar. So he turned on his laptop, checked his emails - one particularly catching his attention:

_[I read one of the letters on your blog, the last one from Sheik to Impa. Did I read it correctly? Were Link and Sheik involved? I am attending Hyrule Academy in the city, and I've never read anything about this before. Could you shed some light on this? Thank you.]_

And all of it had started to make sense.


End file.
